#i mean the answer is Yeah I Guess. Why Not

[luveline]

would you be able to do hotch’s adult daughter meeting the team?

—Hotch introduces his daughter to the team. 1.3k

“Aaron?” 

He’s grateful you didn’t call him Mr. Hotchner, but dad might not hurt. “Everything okay, honey?” he asks the phone. 

“Sure, um. This might be presumptuous and, like, embarrassing for me, but my last class got cancelled and I was wondering if I can come to your office today?” 

He feels his brows rise of their own accord. He checks his watch. You’ve picked a good day to want to come. “Sure, it’s quiet here.”

���You don’t want me to explain why?” 

“Presumptuous and embarrassing for me, I thought it might be to see your dear old dad.” 

You laugh funny on the other side, like Jack when he’s surprised. “Kind of. I do want to see you, but I was wondering what it’s like. In the FBI, I mean.” 

“You’re interested?” 

“In working there?” you ask. 

“It’s fine if you were, you don’t have to worry.” 

“It looks too intense for me, but… yeah, I guess I want to know what you do all day. I don’t know anything about that part of your life, and it’s such a big part of it.” 

He’s trying hard to say Yes to you at every opportunity, and this yes is easy. He sends a car to get you because he can, preparing himself for a lot of fawning and surprise. The BAU team, namely, Spencer, Derek, JJ, Emily, Dave, and Penelope, know who you are, but the office itself has little knowledge of you. There was chatter the day you turned up here unannounced. You haven’t been to the office since. 

He exits his office and finds Spencer, Emily, and Derek in the bullpen doing their paperwork, among other things. Derek’s peeling an orange. Spencer has his nose in a book despite a hand on the computer mouse. 

“Are you ready?” he asks them. 

“For what, the round table?” Emily asks. 

“Y/N’s coming into the office.” 

Three backs straighten in unison. “The kid?” Derek asks with a grin. He’s the only one who’s actually met you, and it drives the others mad with jealousy. 

“My kid, yes,” he says. He can’t help smiling. “She wants to see what we do. Please don’t show her anything with blood or gore, though. Please.” 

“Scout’s honour,” Emily says, standing from her desk to brush herself down. “Out of everything that’s happened when I started here, is it strange that this is the craziest?” 

“It’s up there,” Spencer says. 

“It’s certainly the nicest surprise I’ve had,” Aaron says, not quite missing the look Emily and Derek share even as he spots you at the office doors with your visitor’s pass clipped to the belt of your skirt. 

He walks to meet you, lest the sheer sea of faces intimidate you. “Everything okay?” he asks. 

You pull your jacket tighter around you, but it’s not a warm thing —if anything, it seems to be a stiff cardigan, grey and white plaid with ornate buttons. “It’s freezing out there.” 

“You’ll feel much warmer in a minute. The heat has been on high all day, JJ’s orders.” He slips his hand behind your back and shepherds you to the bullpen. “Honey, these are some of the members of my team. Supervisory special agents Prentiss, Morgan, and Reid.” 

“Emily,” Emily says, thrusting her hand forward to shake. 

“Spencer,” Spencer adds, managing to escape a handshake as Derek steps in. 

“Derek Morgan,” he introduces himself, shaking your hand with a warm smile. “I can see now why you were reluctant to tell me what you were here for.” 

Your smile goes sideways, like you’re startled, but pleased nonetheless, “I– honestly, I thought you’d make me leave if you heard what I had to say. It’s still not believable.”

“You sound like him,” Spencer says. “Not masculine, but–”

“Mellifluous,” you and Aaron say at the same time. 

“Exactly.” 

“Freaky,” Emily says, though her smile is brilliant. 

When Aaron sat the team down to tell them, it wasn’t because he necessarily wanted to. He loves you as any man loves their child even if he still has mountains to learn about you, and the urge to brag about you doesn’t go away, but he was hoping he wouldn’t have to answer so many questions about you at the time. As far as anybody in Aaron’s life knows, he and Haley haven’t ever split, it was a private parting, and so the first thing he sensed from everyone was a shift in image. “I didn’t cheat on Haley,” he’d said quickly, with a suffering sigh, “we were broken up at the time.” 

“Like, on a break?” Emily had asked, cringing. 

No, not really. Aaron assumed he and Haley were broken up permanently when he slept with your mother, but that brief relationship cemented for him that he loved his now-wife. Now that the team know he’s not an adulterer, the only thing he has while presenting you to them is pride. 

“Y/N’s class was cancelled today, so I’m going to show her around the office and give her some insight into what we do here,” he says, catching your attention with a grin. “It’s not as though you need today's lecture, hm? She’s nearly the top of her class.” 

You shake your head at him, beaming but mortified, “Don’t.” 

“If she didn’t work so hard–”

“He’s trying to get me to quit my job,” you tell the others. “He’s overbearing.” 

“We know,” Emily says. 

“I just think that now is a time for studying, and you’ve worked hard enough already.” 

You shift marginally closer to him. Most people wouldn’t notice, but Aaron does, and he suspects his team do to. “I’m fine doing both,” you say. 

He’s sure he’ll win the argument one day. For now, he escorts you through the office to the round table, then his office, pulling you into Rossi’s office for a charming hello and then to JJ’s, where you’re greeted with excitement and a disarming amount of love. Aaron forgets sometimes how much he and his team have been through together. You really are a good surprise. 

“Where are we going now?” you ask, following Aaron down a long corridor. 

He smiles. “You don’t have a sensitivity to high-pitched noises, do you?” 

Your confusion is plain on your face. Aaron takes you to a familiar door, placard reading in big, black letters: PENELOPE GARCIA, BAU TOP TECH AND DATA ANALYST. It’s surrounded by pink heart shaped stickers. 

He knocks the ajar door politely. “Garcia?” he asks.

“Sir?” Penelope says back. 

He eases open the door with his foot. Penelope turns in her chair, blonde hair in windswept curls, her lips painted a pink-orange. 

“Garcia, this is Y/N, my daughter.” 

Penelope’s mouth falls open. “I know who she is,” she says, nearly monotonous. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” you say. “I’ve heard so much about you. I love your trinkets,” you add, nodding at her wild desk. 

Penelope gives Aaron a pleading look. He nods. 

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god!” Penelope says, rushing forward to throw her arms around you. “I can’t believe you’re here!”

You laugh and bow gently under her weight. “Me neither,” you say sincerely. 

“Oh my gosh. Oh my god,” she says, pulling away to smile at Aaron, “she sounds like you, you weren’t kidding! How is it possible that she sounds like you?” 

“Strong genetics?” he suggests. 

“I’ve never been this happy in my life,” Penelope says. 

He watches you take Penelope’s excited hand and thinks, that makes two of us. 

“You’re so adorable, I’m looking for Hotch in your face but you don’t look like him at all. But your clothes! You’re so cute, like a baby politician!” 

“I’m almost twenty three.” 

“So young,” Penelope fawns. 

[what-if-i-just-did]

"Are you okay?"

I spoke softly, so as not to startle him. I'd come back to the room to find him sitting up, and I could almost feel his panic and confusion. Upon seeing me, he calmed down.

"Yeah," he nodded, and it looked painful. "Just, I woke up and you weren't there, so.. "

I understood the problem instantly. I'd only gone to get water, but.. I would have reacted the same way, had it been him. Strange. Just days ago, I would not have hesitated to kill him. He would have easily done the same- nearly did, on a few occasions. Subconciously, my hand raised to the side of my throat, tracing an old scar. Very nearly.

Sitting down on the bed again, I could tell he was still looking at me. "Is something wrong?"

"No. Well... not beyond what We already know."

Right. We. Capital-W-we, like capital-U-us. Something that had happened in a single second that seemed to span a century. Mortal enemies to codependancy, a complete united front, within a second. We were lucky, We supposed. By myth and legend, the few that found what We did either came out with their sanity in fragmented shards, or did not come out at all.

Perhaps that's why We came out alive and sane- Well, sane... As close as could. One mind would shatter... but two would meld. Still incapable of grasping the... the magnitude, the insignificance, the severity of what We witnessed. Of what We know. But not catatonically so.

I sigh. We've spent the past few days in a hotel, avoiding Our respective teammates, mentors, minions, superiors... I know the exact look my mentor would give me if We even tried to explain this. How do We explain what happened to Us? How do We explain why there even is an Us, when We don't know Ourself? They would have his head most likely, or at least try to talk to me alone. But the difference, the line between me and him has thinned and blurred into infathomability. We don't know how, We can only guess at why. How could We convince them of it? The truth is We can't, and we know it. And his side.. has it's own complications. It's been days... We've been getting used to being Us, but We're running out of time.

"You're troubled."

Had it been anyone else, the observation would have startled me, seeing as how deep in thought I was. As it is, it's like he'd already been in my mind. Our mind. Days ago, my greatest enemy. Now, I don't believe he will ever be capable of even startling me again.

"We're running out of time. It's been a few days. They were aware of the risk in Our respective missions, but they will be expecting a result, and soon. Our corpses, or Our success. We need to decide what to do. We required the time to re-adjust, We still need more time, but... if We are not to do something soon, something to monitor or influence the consequences, then consequences will find Us, Our preferences and needs be damned."

He nodded. I didn't need more of an answer, anyways. He was already aware of everything I said. That's another thing, this.. near psychic bond. It wasn't like We could hear eachother's thoughts, it was more like.. like We had no need to. His body, his emotions, felt like an extension of what had originally been my own. We were still seperate and yet, connected. His feelings felt like an echo in my mind, his presence bringing me comfort despite feeling like my shadow. He was me, and more. He was still him. I was still me. But We were Us, and that was irreversible and incomprehensible.

Silently, we thought. Going through our options, sharing opinions, it required no words, no means of communication. Eventually We came to a conclusion. We would have to make sure that Our other halves weren't to be injured, that We weren't to be seperated, by either of Our previous sides. We didn't question those instincts, those needs. They had been instilled in Us the second we became Us, and it had left Us a scared, shivering mess as We clung to eachother, Ourself, for the first few hours. We had worked past that, had learnt to become seperate enough to operate independantly. Still, We stayed close.

It wasn't so much as that it hurt to be apart, as that it was massively unpleasant. Well, it hadn't hurt up until then, but We'd only been apart for short times and short distances since then- the bathroom, grabbing something, switching off the lights. It would not surprise Us if being further apart or for longer amounts of time would end up causing pain. We are One, after all.

Reassured, we both nodded. The lights had remained off, so there was no need to seperate Ourself. We slept in one bed, skin-to-skin, the closest We could get to physically being one. Social convention and strangers' assumptions were not something We were bothered by anymore. Although some leaned towards unpleasant accusations, We'd considered it an occupational hazard of almost always being in physical contact of some sort.

Sleep reached Us simultaniously, as it had ever since We became Us. It was a peaceful sleep, preparing for the day ahead.

Enemies who experience an inescapable horror together and can't imagine being without one another again

The one you hated just days before becomes the one you need curled against you to feel safe, the back of your neck now a hearth for his fiery breath while he sleeps. Flames that once terrified you have become a comfort, a barrier from evil that wishes for your shared demise.

[iwasntstable]

n.s. | is it true?

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summary: Always stubborn, Noah refuses to take a break when he's sick, but everyone's convinced you can persuade him.

content tags: fluff, like a smidge of angst, slight miscommunication.

word count: 3.1k.

note: I started this in September and have been thinking about it ever since so it was about time I finished it 🖤

All the text from Jolly said was, “Hey, can you come down to the studio?” And the first thing you hear as you approach the door is raised voices. 

“You tell him!”

“Tell who what?” You ask, entering into the chaos as the hum of noise is reduced to silence and every face in the room turns to look at you.

“Tell Noah he needs to stop pushing himself and go home and rest in bed,” Matt is the first to speak up.

"I don't need to fucking rest," Noah sighs, rubbing his brow.

"And why do I need to tell him that?" You ask.

"She doesn't need to tell me anything!"

"Noah, you're going to make things worse,” Jolly stands with his arms folded like an impatient father.

“Make what worse? What’s going on?” You look between the men in the room, searching each of their faces for answers.

“He’s sick, but he keeps pushing himself even though he can’t sing properly right now. He needs to go get some fucking rest at home or he’ll fuck up his voice!” Jolly explains.

“It’s fine!” Noah protests from his desk chair. Though he was only half facing you, you could see the dark circles under his eyes and the greyish pallor to his skin. “If I need to re-record it, I will, but it’s fine right now,” he continues, and you can hear the hoarseness in his voice. Matt pulls off his hat and runs his hand through his hair in frustration, then replaces the hat back on his head with a sigh.

“Noah, you’re not going to be able to re-record anything if you lose your fucking voice,” Jolly turns to you and states your name firmly. “Tell him.”

“Again, why do I need to tell him? Why would he listen to me if he’s not listening to you?" You know they’re right, but he’s stubborn; you don’t understand what would make your instructions different.

“He'll listen to you because he's fucking in love with you!" Matt shouts.

It was like the air suddenly became thick, and nobody says a word more as your eyes widen and flick straight to Matt. Then to Noah, where he sits wearing what you guess is the exact same expression as yours. Your eyes lock, and you can feel the panic radiating from him. Just as you’re about to speak, the question on the tip of your tongue goes left unsaid as Noah abruptly stands and shoulders his way past the other men. “Noah,” you try, but he’s steadfast in his pace; his shoulder brushes yours as he passes, and not once does he look back.

You watch as his silhouette grows smaller through the window in the door, watching even as he disappears around the corner and out of view. You only turn when Matt calls your name quietly.

"What the fuck was that about?" you all but shout. The men shuffle awkwardly on their feet and struggle to meet your eyes.

"He's sick and losing his voice, but he keeps pushing anyway. We kept telling him to go back home and rest, but he wouldn't listen." Jolly tries to avoid the question.

"Yeah, I get that,” you cast a glance at him. “What did you mean?" You ask Matt directly.

"What?" He responds like a deer caught in headlights.

"What did you mean when you said he'd listen to me because..." You couldn't say it; just the thought had your face growing hot.

"Look, Dierkes, you go. We're gonna go talk," Jolly nods at his friend and spins around the desk chair Noah was sitting in, taking the seat for himself at the computer.

Matt enthusiastically makes his exit. Gathering his bags, he all but runs out of the studio, out from under the weight of your gaze. When the door closes behind him, you sit in the chair next to Jolly, and he turns his own chair to face you.

"He's crazy about you," he starts without hesitation. You pick at the leather of the armrest as your heart begins to race. "He talks about you all the time. Honestly, I don't know how you haven't noticed. He's liked you for months."

"You're serious?" You ask, meeting his eyes, which hold nothing but sincerity.

"You can't say you haven't seen it even a little!” He tilts his head and leans back against the chair. “The way he looks at you, he drops everything for you. Always coming to your side whenever some weird guy flirts with you. He hasn't gone on a date in ages because he's waiting for you!" You bite your lip, unwilling to believe what you're hearing, until Jolly says quietly, "I know you feel the same too."

"What?!" you raise your voice automatically, wishing immediately that you didn't when you see him smiling knowingly at you.

"I see the way you look at him too, when he's not looking. You go bright red when he teases you. Just like you are now. You know I see everything.” You press your hands to your cheeks, and they feel like ice compared to the heat from your face. "You should go talk to him. At least convince him to take a fucking week off," he spins around in his chair, waving his hand and going back to the piece he was working on before all this.

You sit frozen to the spot for a moment trying to process what he'd just said. Noah likes you. He likes you back.

Jolly's voice rings in your head as you stand. "He's liked you for months." You head for the door, out of the building, and into your car on autopilot. Taking a deep breath before turning the key in the ignition and pulling out onto the road in the direction of Noah’s house.

The whole way your mind is racing. "He's crazy about you." You had no idea what you were going to say when you got there. "He talks about you all the time... the way he looks at you." You were telling yourself it wasn't true; it couldn't be. The man you've admired and apparently not-so-secretly adored all this time felt the same way? It was crazy. It couldn’t be true. And yet the concept still makes your heart race, and that treacherous heat makes your skin flush.

You find yourself parked outside his house, your car neatly on the drive right next to his. For several minutes, you go back and forth on whether to go in or just leave. The idea of really confronting him about this situation brings you nothing but anxiety, but the fact that he’s unwell and pushing himself so hard, the need to check on him and at least make sure he’s okay, brings you to his front door.

When you knock, there’s no answer. You wonder if he's watching you from the doorbell camera and choosing to ignore you. After knocking again, you decide to just use your key instead, hoping he won’t be too mad.

Inside, you find no signs of life. All the lights downstairs are off, and the house is statically silent as though it were totally empty. You’d think it were empty if not for Noah’s car parked outside.

You finally figure out where he is when you head upstairs and see the glow of purple LEDs leak from underneath his bedroom door. Your hand hesitates in a fist before you pluck up the courage to knock. No response. You knock a little louder, but still, no response.

Pushing the slightly ajar door open, you peek into his room, finding him lying in bed. Curled up under a blanket, fast asleep. You can’t help but smile at the peaceful sight. He must’ve been exhausted to fall asleep so quickly and deeply. You back out of his room and close the door softly, treading lightly as you go back down the stairs to the kitchen. 

You jump up to sit on the counter and rest your head back against the upper cabinets, closing your eyes. How could you be in this situation? You were content to never tell Noah about your feelings for him, and never ever did you expect your feelings to be reciprocated. You’re still convinced this is all some joke or a misunderstanding. He ran from that studio because he was humiliated by the thought of liking you. There’s no way Noah could want you the way you want him. But after what Matt and Jolly said, you’ll never be content until you know the truth. Even if he denies it, you still have the chance to salvage this friendship that’s so dear to you. He doesn’t know how you feel. It’s not too late to save this, and if he confesses... Shaking your head, you can’t even entertain that thought.

To distract yourself from the feeling of impending doom and to make yourself useful, you decide to cook. Pulling your phone from your pocket, a quick Google search suggests chicken noodle soup as a good option for someone who’s unwell. Warm, high in protein, easy to digest. You slide from the counter to rummage through the kitchen, mentally thanking whoever went grocery shopping recently for having everything you need for the simple recipe.

Following the instructions on your phone, you work quickly, having the food prepared in just over thirty minutes. After preparing a serving in a bowl and buttering some bread too, you balance both on a plate, almost forgetting the spoon before you go carefully back up the stairs.

You weren’t expecting him to be awake yet, but when you knock, he answers.

"Yeah?" His voice is hoarse and quiet even through the door.

"It's me," you say.

There's a brief moment of silence that has anxiety clawing at your throat before he replies, "Go away."

"Noah, please. I just-"

"Just go away," he rasped louder. "I don't wanna talk."

You sigh, feeling the urge to run, but you suppress it. "But I made you soup," you try, but he says nothing. "Can I at least come in and leave this for you?" Again, no response. You can’t help but sigh quietly. He can be stubborn as a bull at times. "I'm coming in. You better be decent," you try to joke. Once more, no response.

You toe the door open gently, stepping into the dim room to find Noah now rolled over in bed, his back to you, still cocooned in the blanket. Moving over some of the items on his desk—a coaster, a book with a dollar bill sticking out as a bookmark, a half-empty bottle of water, the TV remote—you set the food down. Seeing his phone next to him on the mattress, you take it and check the charge, 12%, and a text from Matt that read, “I’m sorry man.” You crouch down by the bed and put it on to charge, then replace it next to him on the mattress.

You stay there for a moment. Internally warring with yourself on whether you were really about to broach this topic. Ultimately, you decide you just have to know the truth.

"Noah, I know you don't wanna talk, but-"

"Good. Go then," his coarse words sting. True or not, sick or not, he had no right to snap like that. 

"Stop being so fucking harsh with me. I didn't have to come here for you, I didn't have to spend time in your kitchen making food for you, but I did. The least you could do is say thank you.” You wait for him to respond, waiting for an apology, but he says nothing.

The urge to run like Matt ran from the studio was strong; your legs flex under you, and you almost stand, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. More so, you don’t want to leave him when he's unwell.

"What they said back there," biting the bullet, your voice is quieter now. "Is it true?"

You didn't expect him to answer, what with his commitment to silence. So when that silence stretched on, you resigned yourself to his will. Standing and heading for the door, hand on the handle, you're stopped by his voice, "That's not how I wanted you to find out."

You pause, waiting to see if he'd continue, but he goes quiet again. "So, it is true?" But he returns to his silence. You go back over to his bed, crouching down again. "Will you talk to me? Please."

Noah doesn’t yield.

"I'm not mad or upset. I just want-" You cut yourself off, struggling to say the words out loud. "Jolly told me he sees the way you look at me, how you go out of your way to do things for me and talk about me all the time," he curls in on himself a little tighter under the blanket, hiding from your words. "He also said... how he sees the way I look at you when you're not looking... and how flustered I get when you tease me..." you trail off. Feeling your heart hammering so hard inside your chest that you can hear it in your ears. You honestly can't believe you just said that out loud.

Noah shifts under the blanket, straightening his legs and rolling onto his back, arm over his face, obscuring his eyes. "You're just saying that," he mumbles.

"Noah, I'm here in your room with homemade chicken noodle soup, even after you told me a million times to leave. Who else would I do that for?"

"You'd do it for Nicholas."

"I would not let Nicholas talk to me like that and walk away unscathed."

He laughs, rubs his eyes, and moves his arm, finally looking at you. He has a despondent expression on his face, but somewhere underneath is a slight smile. You smile softly, happy to finally see his face.

"I'm sorry," he tries, but you shake your head.

"Don't be,” you say, taking a deep breath. “I'd probably freak out too if you found out I love you like that."

"You- What?" He sits up a little straighter.

"Don't make me say it again," you groan and rest your forehead on the mattress.

Feeling the bed move, you look up to see him sitting upright and staring down at you. You move too to sit on the end of his bed. Silence once again fills the room, neither one of you knowing exactly what to say next.

Noah closes his eyes and runs a hand through his already messy hair. "Jolly told me so many times to just tell you, but I convinced myself there's no way you felt the same," he confessed.

You almost felt sick from the adrenaline racing through your veins. Looking down at your lap and playing with the sleeves of your hoodie. "Well, I do. He said the same to me too," you let out a bitter laugh. "Seems as though Joakim has been playing cupid." When you look back up, he still seems tense. "Noah, I'm not lying," you hold out your hand to him, which he takes and laces your fingers together. "I was never going to tell you because..." you hesitate again, but it’s too late to turn back now. "I never thought you'd like me back. I thought you'd laugh in my face. I don't deserve you."

"Don't say that. It's me who doesn’t deserve you. You're always so kind and generous,” he glances at the bowl of soup. “Even when I really don't deserve it."

"You do deserve it. You deserve kindness because you give so much kindness. Jolly was right, you do so much for me even when you don't need to. You drove me everywhere before I got my car, even when you were busy. Which I felt so fucking guilty for because I knew you had enough on your plate as it was."

"You know, I hated when you got that car," he smiled shyly. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I wanted to drive you everywhere, all the time. Whenever you needed. I loved those times when we could just... be alone together," he sighed, not in sadness but in relief. A small smile on his lips.

You don’t think you could handle your heart racing any faster than it already was and decide to change the topic slightly. "How are you feeling, anyway?"

"Terrible, honestly. My throat is fucked. I don't know how I'm gonna finish recording."

"Yeah, you're not," you state. "You're gonna eat the delicious soup I made you, and you're gonna rest. No recording vocals until you're better. I’d say no producing until you’re better, but I think we’d have to detain you. Lock you in the bathroom or something,” you sadly break your hand apart from his and reach for the food on the side table as he chuckles under his breath. "What's so funny?" You ask.

Shaking his head, he says, "nothing. Just, they really were right, I do listen to you.”

Handing him the bowl, you smile teasingly at him, "because you love me."

"Yeah, I do," he smiles genuinely, caressing your hands briefly as he takes it from you to set it on his lap. "Can you stay?” he asks quietly. “I don't want you to go away. Will you sit with me?"

Your heart warms at his sincerity. “Of course I will.” You climb onto his bed and rest back against the headboard next to him in the space he made. A comfortable, familiar setting you’d both been in numerous times before. He leans over to the side table and tosses the TV remote onto your lap.

“Find something for us,” he says. You press the power button and load up Netflix to scroll through the categories as he eats. “Mm,” he hums with a mouthful of food. “This is so good, I should get sick more often. I didn’t know you could cook like this.”

“Yeah, don’t you dare,” you smile as you continue to scroll. The options turn into blurs as they pass by on the screen. Your mind was well and truly wandering at the thought of what was going to come next for you and Noah. Were you dating now? Did he even want that right now, or would it take time? These were all questions that would have to be asked and answered tomorrow. For now, you settled with the contentment that your current relationship wasn’t completely ruined and felt thrilled at the prospect of it becoming something more. 

“Oh!” Noah’s exclamation breaks your train of thought. “Remind me to beat the shit out of Matt the next time I see him.”

You break out in a laugh and lean in closer to his side. “Not if I get my hands on him first.”

This fic was inspired by the following randomly generated prompts, from this post!

꒰ 2 ꒱ “what they said back there. Is it true?” ꒰ L ꒱ relief ꒰ 𓅫 ꒱ the bedside of someone who doesn’t want you there

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✉ C:/SYSTEM/APP/TAG

ᯤ 𝗨𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗦 (28) :　 ⌞⬤ 10 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾⌝ @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning | @english-fucker @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard | @seven-glass-kids @runadaggerthroughmychest

@lma1986 | @shayzillaaaa | @madamaaubergine @thewrstinme | @amourtoken

⌞⬤ 9 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒⌝ @livingdeceasedgirl | @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @thecoyotescry | @romanreigns-supreme | @slutforcoffein

@dethroneackerman | @bluestdai | @fadingangelwisp @broken0mens

⌞⦵ 5 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖻⌝ @ferduttini | @fadingintothegrey | @lovesick-evangelist @missduffsblog | @anything-more-than-human

⌞◯ 4 𝗈��𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾⌝ @thisbicc | @sadbitchenergy | @iconic-taurus @queen-foraday

　+[MSG : join the taglist!]

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[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Thirty

Couple of things - I've been going through it lately and just wanted to get this bit out. I do have more planned but I need a break after this. The Carpenters song referenced is 'all you get from love is a love song' and if you don't know it you can give it a listen and then you'll get the 'broken arm' joke.

They squish together into the phone booth, Steve hitting the numbers almost on reflex now, going through the motions of briefly speaking to Robin’s mom.

He angles the receiver so that Eddie can hear too, their cheeks practically touching, “Steve! Chrissy’s here-”

“Why?” Eddie cuts her off immediately, “not time to close the shop,” he almost sounds a little critical when he says it, making Steve smile.

“I know I know,” Chrissy says, “but he came back!”

“So we waited for him to leave, and we followed him,” Robin adds enthusiastically.

If Steve couldn’t hear for himself that they’re both at Robin’s place, and they’re both absolutely fine, he’d be panicking now, maybe he kind of is, because he’s sort of snippy when he says, “Robin what the fuck, it’s not safe, you two aren’t- you’re not Cagney and Lacy for fucks sake.”

“Steve it’s fine,” Chrissy tells him, “he went to Starcourt, so we went home and called Hopper right away.”

“Good,” Steve breathes a sigh of relief, “okay, so what now?”

“We don’t know,” Robin admits, “we’re just waiting to hear now. See what happens?”

“Okay we could...Eddie, you want to kill some time in town, and we can call again later?”

“Yeah” Eddie pulls back his sleeve to check his princess watch, “...lunch. And shopping?”

“Sure thing baby.”

Chrissy squeaks down the phone, “oh you’re both just too cute together.”

“Oh my god don’t encourage them.”

“Oh!” Chissy starts, “I met El and all the rest of the kids, isn’t she just, so cool? She made some pens float around!”

“El is the fewest bad kid. She’s quiet,” Eddie agrees, but Steve is absolutely certain Eddie’s warmed to the kids a lot over the last couple of months, so he knows Eddie doesn’t really mean it like that.

“Least,” Steve corrects softly, “she’s the least bad. Probably.”

“Best of a bad bunch?” Robin hazards.

“Maybe,” Eddie tells her, “we can come home soon?”

“Errrr…I mean, see what Hopper says, I guess? We might know later, but you guys shouldn’t come back today anyway, it’s a few hours drive, and you’ll need to pack up and everything, right?”

Steve frowns, as Eddie, very briefly, looks sad, “maybe tomorrow,” he says to Eddie more than the girls, “is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, “I...like the flower shop?”

“You miss it?”

“Yes, and Chrissy. Miss them. I know they’re not gone but...they’re not here.”

“Oh Eddie honey, I miss you too, okay? And when you get back you can come into work, there’s stuff to catch up on,” she whispers then, “Robin isn’t good with the flowers like you.”

“Hey! I’m trying my best here-” but she gives up, everyone else laughing over her.

The payphone starts to beep, “we’ll call later okay!”

Steve’s pretty sure Eddie’s jar will be empty again after today. He’s bought four more records, more Led Zeppelin, plus a Dio record because ‘Rainbow in the Dark’ was playing when they walked in and Eddie really liked it. Steve absolutely certain that the girl with a green Mohawk wearing a Dio shirt sealed the deal, but he's not going to tease Eddie about it.

Eddie comes out of the changing room of the second hand clothes store, showing Steve the jeans he’s trying on. He’s been making do all this time with Steve’s draw string sweats and jeans with a very cinched in belt, so it’s definitely time for Eddie to choose his own things but...Steve wasn’t expecting Eddie to choose anything quite so tight.

“Stevie? What do you think?”

Steve swallows thickly before he answers, he swears Eddie’s only getting away with wearing them because his dicks on the inside, the thing would get strangled otherwise, “you look really good Eds. You like those ones?”

“Yes. Black, like my tail. And look,” Eddie scratches at the ripped fabric, his knees on display, “see my knees. I like to see them, they’re new.”

Steve bites his lips briefly to suppress the chuckle, “you should definitely be proud of those knees, you did grow them yourself.”

Steve frowns at the sight of Eddie in a leather jacket; it’s so very far removed from everything he’s been wearing. It’s so different from all of Steve’s clothes, but Steve can’t deny he’s making it work. It definitely suits the look Eddie’s starting to cultivate. He’s very much leaning towards darker colors, and he was really pleased when he turned up a Led Zeppelin tee shirt out of a pile.

The difference between the Eddie that comes out of the dressing room and the Eddie that went in is startling, Steve’s pullovers and polos all tend to be lighter colors, so all the black is very different.

“You like it?”

“I mean, as long as you like it, sure, you’re the one who has to wear it. But yeah, yeah I do like it. You look good.”

Steve has to stand by while Eddie rummages across a tray of cheap jewellery, “they’ll turn your fingers green,” he warns vaguely. Eddie shrugs, probably not understanding what Steve means as he tries things on, he likes the shiny silver ones that definitely are not silver, “you’re such a magpie.”

Eddie chooses two chunky rings that are so cheap he will get change from his last five dollars, but he clearly likes how they look on his fingers; he doesn’t even take them off to pay for them. Steve knows he’s just here to hold the bags, but he doesn’t mind. Eddie’s worked hard for this money, he should spend it on the things he wants.

Steve meanders through the store, it’s mostly second hand furniture and ‘antiques’, but Steve figures that term is being used very, very loosely. As near as Steve can tell it mostly looks like house clearances and that sort of thing. He spends a little while at the glass cabinets, staring at all the little figurines. 'Dust gatherers,' his dad calls them. There’s some tiny little jade ones, big tall porcelain ones and everything in between.

He’s distracted away from them by the sound of twanging. Bad, uneven twanging on an acoustic guitar. Steve follows the sound, finding Eddie just fiddling with the strings, the guitar still lying on it’s back. It doesn’t have a case, and looks pretty beat to hell to Steve, covered in stickers and all scratched up, but Eddie is entertained by the noises, and he looks up, smiling, “you going to buy it?”

Eddie shakes his head, “not enough left.”

“How much are you short?”

Eddie checks his pocket, and then the little label hanging from the neck, “six dollars?” he hazards.

“Okay, well, I’ve got four left on me, so maybe you can haggle the guy down.”

“I’ll try,” Eddie grins big, taking the change from Steve.

They’ve dropped everything off at the car and, with nothing left to do to kill any more time, they head back to the phone and smush into the booth together.

“He wasn’t there when Hopper got there,” Robin tells them, and Steve sighs, disappointed, “but! El looked into my head real quick, and she says he’s called Doctor Owens. She knew who he was, and she says he’s...nice.”

“Nice,” Steve repeats, deadpan, “a man who facilitated experiments on little kids. Nice.”

“Well...I mean maybe as nice as he could be given the circumstances. I got the impression he never...he wasn’t cruel about it. If you know what I mean.”

“I guess,” Steve hazards, “Eddie?”

Next to him, Eddie’s kind of staring into space, frowning, “Owens. Yes. Remember that word, maybe?”

“Okay. Okay, so what are they doing now Robs?”

“Well, Hoppers keeping an eye out and he’s going to try the Motel right now, but if he’s not there he’s going to start doing drive bys of Starcourt and stuff, and hopefully he turns up,” Steve can hear in her voice that she's shrugging, “but Hopper says since no one else is asking any questions, he’s hopeful that it’s just this guy working alone, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah okay.”

Eddie listens to his new record while Steve makes dinner. He has his guitar over his lap, and occasionally plays a note or two. He understood the mechanics of it already, but Steve figures he must have seen someone with a guitar on TV at some point.

Steve’s absorbed in what he’s doing, and doesn’t notice at first that the twanging noises have stopped. The record ends, but it feels like it’s been a long time of quiet, and Steve looks over to find Eddie, expecting him to be flipping it.

He isn’t.

Steve turns off the stove, covering the two pots he’s been carefully nursing. Eddie isn’t in the cabin; Steve finds him on the dock. He’s just...standing there, in the near dark. Just...staring out across the lake.

“Eddie? You okay?”

Eddie looks around again, “heard something. Had to check it’s safe.”

“You could have said,” Steve comes up close, wrapping a hand around Eddie’s hip. Eddie turns in reflexively, looking for a quick, soft kiss, which Steve is happy to give.

“Think the trees look like The Upside Down.”

“Do you?” Steve looks around; all the trees have leaves on, they’re dense and alive and nothing like the dead twisted things that litter The Upside Down, “I don’t think they do.”

Wind moves through the trees, the susurration of leaves is kind of loud, “sounds like bats. Many many bats,” Eddie shifts closer, pressing himself against Steve.

“You okay?”

“I don’t...I think I don’t like it here.”

“Oh...well,” Steve makes a decision, “since they’re pretty sure it’s just the Owens guy, how about we go home tomorrow? I mean, you might not be able to go to work and stuff until they find him-”

“Yes. Home tomorrow.”

Steve looks around again, tries to see it through Eddie’s eyes. Tries to see what reminds him so much of The Upside Down. Maybe the panic attack in the shower knocked some stuff loose; Steve doesn’t know. Eddie’s been making do with strip washing from the bathroom sink the last couple of nights, and that’s been fine but not ideal. Eddie’s hair needs a wash.

“Okay, we’ll call when we go through town, okay, let them know?”

“Yes...take my book back.”

“You finished it?”

“Almost.”

“Lets go inside, I can finish dinner and you can tell me what it’s about?”

“So they’re...stealing treasure from a dragon?” Eddie nods, his mouth full of dinner. “Okay, fair enough.”

Eddie swallows, “I want to read The Lord of The Rings.”

“Okay, I’m sure we can get it at the library.”

“You promise dragons aren’t real?”

“Yup. Definitely not real, and there’s no hobbits or wizards or- or elves or any of that stuff. And magic isn’t real- well. That kind of magic isn’t real, at least,” Eddie frowns like the book committed a crime.

“But...dinosaurs. Dinosaurs were definitely real, you have those in your book?”

“Yes...dragons can fly though. And breathe fire.”

“Well...some dinosaurs could fly, and they were big like a dragon, some of them.”

“Really?” Eddie’s eyes go wide, “I thought from my book like...cow sized?”

“Hu uh,” Eddie excitement is actually palpable, “definitely a dinosaur book next, some of them were like...as tall as trees,” Steve doesn’t actually know, he was most definitely not a dinosaur kid, but he’s pretty sure at least some of them were tall like that.

“All the time, used to do this. When I had a tail,” Eddie’s voice is muffled where he’s bent over the kitchen sink.

“Yeah...I guess I did,” and it’s true, Steve was washing Eddie’s hair pretty much every other day when Eddie still had a tail. He feels the back of Eddie’s head almost reflexively at the memory, following the ghostly, barely there ridges with his fingers through the suds, “it’s getting so long again already.”

“Good. El said Max makes nice braids when it’s long enough.”

Steve snorts a laugh, “oh yeah? That’s going to look great, now eyes and mouth closed, I’m gonna’ rinse.”

Eddie has his head resting on Steve’s tummy while Steve plays with his hair, hand buried in his curls, massaging his scalp, “what you doing baby?”

“Hear.”

“Hear? Oh what, you’re listening?”

“Listening to Stevie’s inside.”

“Anything interesting?”

Eddie nods, his cheek dragging against Steve’s skin, “funny tummy noises. And bumping.”

“Bumping? Oh, beating, my heart right?”

“Yeah. Stevie, we can definitely go home tomorrow?”

“Sure thing babe, we can get packed up in the morning,” Steve yawns, “you want to go to sleep?”

“Maybe. There’s bad dreams here.”

Steve blinks his eyes open to look down, a weird shiver raising goosebumps on his arms, all the way down to where his hand is still buried in Eddie’s hair. Eddie didn’t have to put that quite so creepily. “I think it’s just...maybe it reminds you of things here, so your mind is kind playing tricks on you a little? There’s nothing bad here baby, I promise. What do you think?”

“The water reminds me of Barb.”

Steve frowns, “Barb? How do you know about Barb?” Under Steve’s hand, something crawls unpleasantly beneath Eddie’s skin.

Eddie shrugs, “Nancy told me you killed her.”

“Stevie!” Steve fights, briefly, confused. “Stevie love, it’s okay. Bad dream.”

Steve’s kind of sweaty and panting, but he quickly realizes that it’s Eddie whose holding him, so he quits moving, “Jesus Christ,” he breathes out slowly, trying to calm himself down, “I’m fine. Thanks. I’ll be okay in a minute.”

“You want to tell me? Here, water.” Steve takes the glass, sipping it carefully. He can feel the cool water go down, grounding him.

Steve has no desire whatsoever to talk about it, so he deflects, “what time is it?”

“Five?” Eddie leans over, checking his watch before putting it back, “half five.”

“I miss you saying five and a half, it was cute.”

“I can say five and a half,” Eddie takes the glass again before snuggling in.

“Did I wake you?”

“No. Already awake...bad dreams.”

“Fucking hell. We need to go home just so we can get a good nights sleep. What did you dream about?”

“You. Lost you, in the trees...we were here but...Upside Down trees? I tried and tried to find you. Could hear you, ‘help help,’ really scared.”

“Maybe it is this place,” Steve settles down again, pulling Eddie close, “weird that we’re both having bad dreams right?”

“I don’t like it.”

“No but...lets just rest a little, and then breakfast and we can get packed up, okay?”

“Okay, Stevie love.”

Eddie waits outside the phone booth, leaning against the car where it sits parked by the curb. Steve calls Family Video today, knowing that Robs should be at work, “hey Bird-”

“He got him! Hopper! He got the Owens guy!”

Steve feels himself relax, one less thing to worry about, “good. Good, we’re coming home.”

“Okay, Hopper does think it was just this guy. He was staying at the Motel, Hop had to wait around a bit, like proper stake out!! But he did get him. Said he couldn’t find any evidence of him like, working with other people, and El’s going to talk to him or something. Make sure. I’m not sure about that bit but-”

“Okay, okay, so where is he?”

“Hopper’s got him at the Motel. Probably like, tied up, do you think? Steve what if he’s like, working for the government though. Or or the Russians-”

Steve rubs his forehead, “Birdie, I know you do love some empty speculation-”

“I do!”

“But how about we wait until we actually like, know?”

“Spoil sport.”

They say goodbye and end the call, Steve offering the keys to Eddie, “want to do a little of the driving?”

Eddie grins big, clearly surprised and pleased by the offer, “yes I do!”

“Okay, careful though, you don’t know the roads like at home. And no getting distracted by the cows.”

Eddie ‘moos’ really loudly in response, once in the drivers seat, he pauses for a second, “should have bought tapes,” he laments.

“Well, unlucky, I’m thinking some Carpenters.”

“Nooooo,” Eddie laughs.

“Shut up, I know you love it. Now sing to me about how the best love songs are written with a broken arm.”

“I think that’s what she said! Broken heart makes no sense,” Eddie grumbles, Steve still laughing.

Eddie had caved after two hours of driving, but still, considering all Eddie had done before today is short journeys around Hawkins, Steve figures he did really well in an unfamiliar place, and he told Eddie so. Eddie has turned into a surprisingly careful driver, Steve doesn’t know if it’s his consideration for Steve’s beloved car, or if it’s Steve’s constant reminders that Eddie cannot afford to draw any attention to himself. Either way, Steve feels safe in the passenger seat.

“Okay, I think I should take you home to unpack, then I can figure out how to call Hop and see if I can go over.”

Steve’s not even surprised by Eddie’s response, “both go, you mean.”

“Eddie...I’m not sure it’s-”

“Stevie,” Eddie manages to make it a complete sentence.

“Look...I’m not going to take your choice away, okay, if you want to come, then that’s fine. But...you get I just want you to be safe, right? And I feel like the less this guy knows, the better?”

“I know...I know,” Eddie has his thinking face on, when he’s wrestling with how to say something. It’s been happening a lot less lately, but this concept must be more complicated. “The people had me in a tank. They...hurt me. I was scared. Now...Owens is in the tank? He has to...he has to say why. To me. And sorry.”

“I...is that what you want? For him to apologize? To...explain?”

“Apologize and explain. Yes. And...I will not hurt him. I’m Eddie. I’m not people.”

Steve shouldn’t be surprised, not really. He feels like he knows Eddie inside and out, but his natural compassion, his...kind of innate goodness still blind sides Steve sometimes. Steve had vaguely considered that a realistic outcome of this may be that he’s helping Hopper hide a body. Maybe. It was kind of an abstract thought he hadn’t wanted to poke too hard but, realistically, they’re talking about a man who experimented on children, on Eddie.

Steve is clearly no where near as forgiving.

Hopper meets them both outside the room. Steve has no idea what to expect, really. The rasp of Hopper stubble is loud when he scrubs at his face, “El thinks this Owens guy is legit. He already knows Eddie has,” Hopper gestures vaguely, “human parts.”

“How?”

“After Starcourt happened, he went back to poke about, and he saw you both. More importantly Eddie, driving a car,” Hopper’s words are full of accusation, like ‘see I knew him driving would be trouble.’

Eddie waves a hand dismissively, “I can go in?”

Hopper sighs, but Steve isn’t going to fight Eddie on this. He knows what he wants, and he’s so fucking smart. Steve’s sure Eddie doesn’t fully appreciate the risks, not since he doesn’t get fully grasp how stuff like actual governments work but...yeah. It’s Eddie’s life, but Steve still takes his hand. If they’re doing it, they’re doing it together.

Hopper just sighs and rolls his eyes.

Steve figured that, somehow, this guy would just...look evil. He doesn’t. He looks like a harmless old dude, sitting on the edge of a sagging motel mattress, looking over some papers. He cannot disguise his interest when Eddie walks in.

He’s not restrained or anything, he’s just...there. There are books and pens and folders and shit spread out on the opposite bed, like he’s been working.

“Owens?” Eddie checks.

“Yes. Yes hello it is...so wonderful to see you again. And to hear you speak! How good is your understanding-”

“I think we have questions, first,” Steve cuts him off sharply. He doesn’t seem threatening, just...genuinely pleased to see Eddie. The guy has to be up to something, Steve can’t shake the suspicious thought that the guy must be one hell of an actor.

“Yes. Of course. I have everything, all of my notes, from Starcourt, so any questions you have I will do my best to answer.”

“Okay, where the fuck do you get off experimenting on people?” Steve’s pretty sure his voice is reasonably calm. He’s vaguely aware of Hopper coming in behind them, pulling up a folding chair he must have gotten from his truck.

Owens closes his eyes briefly, before addressing Eddie,“yes. Of course. I am so so sorry for what you were put through but..the work we were doing. I was not fully aware of just how intelligent you were. Are. I didn’t at first fully comprehend that we were even dealing with a sentient specimen-”

“He’s not a specimen, he’s a person,” Steve snaps.

“I am very smart,” Eddie adds helpfully.

“Yes. Yes you are. And the transformation you have undergone is nothing short of miraculous, if I could take some bloods-”

“Absolutely the fuck not. What were you doing with the Russians?”

“Oh,” Owens seems genuinely confused by the question, like it hadn’t really occurred to him, “when the original labs were closed, the funding ended. Of course we were aware of the mirror dimension-”

Eddie looks at Steve, “he means The Upside Down.”

“-Oh, is that what you call it? Well, it was deemed for too dangerous, and not worth the expense, to continue, not after such a catastrophic failure. The Russians however didn’t seem to have any such issues and were interested in opening a gate; I had to go where I could to continue my work, you understand. And then they brought you back with them. What should I call you?”

“Eddie. I’m Eddie.”

“And you’re working? And you’ve learned to speak and drive a car...your ability to process new information is staggering. The physical changes, did they just happen? What was the-”

“Stop, just stop. What do you want with him? Why have you been asking around?”

“Stevie,” Eddie says quietly, pulling Steve back a little by his shirt. And yeah, okay, Steve may have taken a step forward.

“I just...want to continue my studies. Eddie’s change...the differences in his make up, his body’s ability to rewrite itself – it could lead to...well, significant discoveries. The data I could gather, imagine the effect on modern medicine, what we might achieve – the potential to help people could be immeasurable.”

“We could...help people?” Eddie echoes.

“Yes, well. We could try. Like I said I would have to do some tests to understand-”

“No,” Steve crosses his arms over his chest.

Next to him, Eddie asks quietly, “what tests?”

“Just...take some blood, for now. Just try to understand how this happened and...what the changes mean on a genetic level.”

“Look, Eddie, you do not have to do a single thing for this guy, okay? This could be dangerous, they could come and take you away again-”

“I would most certainly like to avoid just that,” Owens interjects.

“Oh yeah, right. Sell me on that then,” Steve snaps at him.

“Look,” Owens spreads his hands, he hasn’t moved from his seat on the bed, “I’m the only one who knows about this. The little contact I’ve had with my previous...employers implies that they’re done with the site, they’ve scrubbed the remains of Starcourt, it’s already being filled in. I only know you even exist because I just happened to see you. No one knows Eddie is alive right now, that he didn’t die in his tank, except for me. If I tell anyone they will take him, potentially back to Russia, and I’ll loose access to him. If I inform the American team, I’ll have to admit that I was working for the Russians, which would cause some obvious fall out for me. This way I can just…continue with my work.”

Steve rubs his eyes. It sounds...legit. He guesses. Logical. “Hopper?”

“El says he’s on the level.”

“Jesus fuck,” Steve huffs, walking in a circle.

“Stevie? I want to help people.”

“I know you do baby.”

“Oh, are you two in a relationship-”

Steve finds himself leaning over to point in Owens face, “do not.”

“Okay, okay,” Owens spreads his hands, “look, I think you need to see this from the other side too. What if Eddie gets sick? What are you going to do, take him to the doctor? And what about El, and her powers? What if something comes up with her? I’m more than happy to-”

“I’m sure you are,” Steve stops him, “and you agree with that Hop?”

“I mean, he’s got a point. Don’t think we could take Eddie to a regular doctor, and El was fine with letting him look her over. I mean I maybe don’t agree with the shit he’s been involved in but...I don’t currently have a lot of choice with getting my kids brain powers looked at.”

“I don’t like it.”

Hopper shrugs, “nope.”

“This is such a bad plan.”

“Not as bad as-”

“Don’t you dare-” Steve starts.

“Letting some fish guy-”

“Hopper!” Eddie adds, affronted.

“Bite your toes off.”

[the-froschamethyst4]

“We can’t keep him”

𖤐Pairing: Ghost x F! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, cowboy! Ghost, children, married couple, kissing, harsh background, mention of abuse, mention of a miscarriage and infidelity, happy ending (I promise),

𖤐Summary: Y/n has a family member that has been in the hospital for some time and this was the first time she sees them and finds about their secret child and brings them home to Ghost

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Y/n Riley, a gentle and kind woman who's done no wrong in her life, but she's here at the hospital after being told her cousin was in the hospital after a fatal car accident, Y/n hasn't gone to see him in the 3 weeks she was notified, she was either busy or didn't want to see the person she called family all torn and beat up.

She stood in the doorway of the hospital room and saw her cousin, he was barely holding on, she couldn't even recognize him. She excused herself and heads to the small courtyard, tears running down her face, fists curled and pushed into her eyes wishing she didn't see what she just saw.

As she sat on the bench, she looks down at her feet, as tears land on her thighs.

"You stay here," a woman who sounded angry pushed a young boy on the bench Y/n was on, and she walked off. Y/n was still sniffling but wiped the tears from her face.

"Why are you crying?" The boy asked.

"What happened to your face?" Y/n tried to change the question. The boy has a bruised eye, a busted lip and some dried blood under his nose.

"Nothing," he says.

"Then I'm not crying," she says.

"My dad's here," he says.

"Oh yeah? What happened?"

"Car accident..."

"Car...accident?"

"Yeah," he says, wiping under his nose.

"W-What's his name?" She was scared for the answer.

"Martin L/n."

"Fuck..." Y/n then looks at the ground leaning back on the bench, she then turns to look at the boy. "How...old are you?"

"12," he says.

"Martin," she groans leaning back. "What about your name?"

"Silas."

"Who...who was that woman? Your mom?"

"No, definitely not," he says. "She's my caseworker."

"Caseworker? Something wrong?"

"...Guess you don't know anything about him."

"What did he do?" Now she curious but is also rightfully pissed off at Martin. He was usually a nice and caring man, why does his son have a caseworker?

"He-"

"Silas! Come on, you have to see him." His caseworker yells from the door. Silas doesn't say anything and gets off the bench and heads to the door.

Y/n takes a deep breath and walks to the door as well, going back to the room.

"Who are you? Why are you in here?" The caseworker says.

"Martin is my cousin," Y/n said.

"O-Oh," she doubles down.

"Can he have some privacy to say goodbye?" Y/n looks at the doctor.

"I mean we would but we have a policy that doesn't allow us to leave the room-"

"Your policy is shit and his son should be allowed to say his goodbye, without a doctor or caseworker around," Y/n says. The doctor just nods and motions the caseworker to also leave.

Silas looks at Y/n and then back at his dad on his death bed. Silas plays with his fingers and then looks back at him again.

"You suck as a father..." well that stunned Y/n. "Beat me, left me at school too many times then I can count, left me with that bitch of a caseworker...I hope you rot in hell, and if there's a hell on Earth, I'm already on it," he turns and walks out of the hospital room, Y/n could hear his caseworker call after him.

"Martin...I've don't know what you've done to that poor boy, but you...I'm glad you're leaving, I don't know what you've been doing for the past 6 years, but I know...you deserved this...I loved you, my cousin, but I hate you," Y/n grabbed her purse and walks out of the room, going to her car and starting it up, not before hitting her wheel and screaming out of anger.

--------------

Going home to her husband, Ghost, he sat on the front porch watching her walk up the stairs like she was tired and her eyes were red and puffy, and Ghost opened his arms for her to sit on his lap and she snuggled to his chest.

"Guessing it didn't go that well?"

"He has a son, Si."

"A son? Since when?"

"12 years. He's had a son for 12 years and didn't say anything to anyone, no one knew...he must have hurt that boy for too long."

"Why do you say that?"

"He has a caseworker, Si, no child has a caseworker unless something has happened to that child."

"What's the kid's name?"

"Silas...he's 12...and all I know from what he said to Martin as a good bye was that he basically hates him...and I do too, Si, Martin lied to us, he was never kind or gentle, he was monster behind closed doors."

Ghost held Y/n close and kissed her temple, he rocks back and forth on the rocking chair sitting on the front porch, the silent rain hitting the top of the roof and on the ground.

-----------------

It's been a week now, Y/n washing dishes as Ghost was getting back from feeding the cows, when he sees a truck pull into the driveway, he kept his composure hands on his belt as he watched the Sheriff come out of the truck.

"Evening Sheriff."

"Evening Ghost, I have something."

"What is it?"

"Not what, who."

"Y/N!!" Ghost yells from outside, Y/n stopped what she was doing drying her hands and coming outside.

"Yes?" She opens her door and sees Silas being held by the hoodie by the Sheriff. "Silas?"

"So you know him."

"Yeah...I do...he's my cousins son. I met him a few weeks ago." The Sheriff released Silas and he went to the tailgate of the truck.

"What did he do?" She asked.

"Stealing."

"Where's his caseworker?"

"Said he didn't want to call her, and said you're his legal guardian." He says. Y/n looks at Silas and takes a deep breath.

"We don't have kids, Sheriff." Ghost says.

"Si...can I have a word with my husband?" Y/n pulls Ghost to the front porch.

"So, that's Silas."

"Yeah...Simon, he doesn't have a home...his only family just died, and if they call his caseworker, he'll go to Foster care."

"Love, it's for the best he goes-"

"No, Simon...you've been in his position before," she taps her fingers into his chest.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?" She knew what she was doing.

"We can't...keep him, we know nothing on what a child needs."

"I know he needs a home, right now, parents to take care of him."

"What about his mom?"

"Doesn't know her."

Ghost then takes a deep breath as he looks at Silas swing his feet back and forth on the tailgate and then looks back down at his wife.

"If he stays here, he works," Ghost says.

"Fine, he could use some muscle on him anyways," Y/n walks off the porch and walks to the tailgate where Silas was. "You can stay...if you stay here you work on the farm with my husband, don't worry he's not as bad as he may seems."

The Sheriff had took off a while ago leaving Silas in the care of Y/n and Ghost. Ghost sees Silas at the porch, he seemed like he was going to follow Y/n into the house but stopped him from going in.

"Where you going?" Ghost asked.

"Inside, I'm cold," he says.

"Not just yet, I still haven't fed the pigs, yet, you get to help me with them, and from then on the pigs will now be your responsibility."

"Pigs? Yeah, okay-what I get to move up from the pigs whenever you tell me to?"

"You catch up quick, get your ass moving," Ghost says, showing Silas where he has to go.

Silas goes first walking to the pig pin, Ghost opens the gate and sends Silas inside.

"Grab that bucket. Fill it with slop."

"Slop?"

"That shit right there. It's kitchen scraps, rotten fruit and vegetables," Silas removed the lid on top of the bucket of slop, Silas gags at the smell and puts the bucket inside the slop and scooped out a full bucket full.

Silas continues to gag as he walks to the pigs that crowded around his feet, making him hard to walk around them.

"Push them."

"Push them? They're heavier than me," Silas says.

"Push them," Ghost repeats. Silas used his knee to push the pigs away so he could get to their bowl to dumb everything into it. Once he gets to the bowl and pours everything in, he drops the bucket and goes to the gate where Ghost was.

"Ah, who said you're done?"

"What?"

"You gonna wash Bessy over there."

"Bessy?" Bessy was a big Vietnamese pot-bellied pig. Ghost told Silas that she's probably had about 6 different liters and won 7 blue ribbons at the county fair, she is a force to reckon with, and gets the most dirty out of all the other pigs in the pin.

Silas grabs the hose from the side of the pin turning the water on and spraying Bessy with it, but what Ghost didn't tell Silas was that Bessy hates water and you basically gotta run after her and trap her to wash her.

Silas ran around the pin trying to block Bessy from running, Ghost just laughs at him, Silas then tackles the pig and ended up taking Bessy down with him, he curses and grabs the hose to wash Bessy.

"What the hell is going on? I called for dinner 5 minutes ago!" Y/n says, marching to her husband and Silas. She sees Silas all mudding and dirty, he kind of looks embarrassed to have Y/n looking at him like this.

Y/n slaps Ghost's arm, who wasn't fazed by her smack, but did look at her.

"Why is he in there with them?"

"Cause I didn't get to feed them, so he's doing it, he's now in charge of them."

"Silas, come on, go inside and clean up, dinner is ready." She says, looking annoyed at Simon. Silas walks out of the pin kicking his shoes off at the front door not wanting to trudge mug into the nice and clean house.

"Simon-"

"He's a boy, he's going to get dirty, weather he likes it or not, and the deal was, he lives here, he works here."

"I know that but-"

"But nothing, there is no but," he says. "Come on...thought dinner was ready?"

---------------

Silas took a nice hot shower, coming down in clothes Y/n could find for him, some old sweatpants and an old t-shirt.

"Thanks."

"Sorry, I didn't have any clothes to fit you, we can go shopping tomorrow, or do you have clothes back at your home?"

"I need new ones..." he picks at the food not wanting to talk more and Y/n didn't push him, but Ghost just stares at the boy and then at his wife, he sees how similar they look, same hair color, those same colored eyes, but Silas was more quiet, rebellious. Y/n gentle, can be stubborn, and a pain in Simon's ass sometimes.

"I need him around the farm tomorrow," Ghost jumps in and looks down at his dinner eating it.

"You have help. Thought Soap, Price and Alejandro were coming?"

"They are-"

"Then you can wait, it won't take long, he needing new things is a bit more important," Silas looks at the couple talking, he leans back into the chair not eating, it caught Ghost's attention.

"Eat kid," he says.

"I'm not hungry anymore."

"Why?" He pushes.

"Simon, enough...you don't have to if you don't want to...or if you want...we can eat in silence, no more talking about anything," she says, looking at Silas. Silas has never gotten that look before, it was the look of someone who cared, and not angry, Ghost wasn't angry nor annoyed, he's just not use to someone else in his home let alone a kid he's now responsible for.

They ate in silence like Y/n said, Silas had finished first and was excuse to walk around the house and explore if he wanted to. He stumbles upon a room, pushing the door open and seeing it was a nursery. Why would there be a nursery in the house with no kids but him?

He looks around the room was filled with pink things, the walls painted a soft pink color, he looks around when seeing the name 'Luna' on the wall.

"We were going to have a baby at some point," Ghost says, making Silas jump.

"I-I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine kid..." Ghost comes in slightly closing the door behind him. "My wife was pregnant a while back," he walks to the empty crib in the middle of the room.

"She had a miscarriage around 6 months...she has every right to be more upset than me, we've just kept this room shut and off limits, she was scared to remove everything, so we've left the room alone...we tried for another baby a while back but...my wife...she can't get pregnant..." he looks down at Silas. "Promise me, kid...you act and treat her like a mother, she's doing you a favor by staying here with us, she could told that Sheriff to take you to your caseworker, so be fucking glade," he says.

Silas nods and leaves the room. As Silas leaves and continues down the hall he sees another door opened and Y/n was inside setting up the bed for him.

"Oh, here, you'll be staying in the guest bedroom," she says. She leaves him alone in the bedroom as she makes her way down the hall and sees Simon coming out of the nursery, Y/n's heart clenched in her chest as she looks at him.

"He was in here."

"Oh." She looks at the door at the end of the hall slowly closing. Y/n looks up at Simon and felt tears in her eyes when she thinks about her baby. Simon knew what was coming and picked her up and taking her to their bedroom.

------------------

Silas woke up to a chicken near his window pecking at the glass and then hears the door creak open.

"Get up, Kid," Ghost says. Silas groans and sits up looking at Ghost in his doorway.

"Thought I was going shopping?" He says.

"Oh you are," Y/n pops her head in. "Simon is just being an asshole."

"Am not, we're up, so he can be up-"

"He can sleep in if he wants to," Y/n shuts the door and pulls Simon away from his door. "You have to leave him alone, he's a child, coming from a rough home already, he doesn't need you in his face or business all the time."

"Love-"

"Don't 'love' me, he's just a kid, you also have friends coming to work with you, you can wait till he gets back." She says, pushing him out of the hallway and onto the first stair.

"Sorry to interrupt but...I have no clothes," Silas calls from the end of the hall.

"I'll get you some," Y/n gives him a smile and then a quick glare at her husband, pushing past him and going to look for more clothes.

She brings up a t-shirt and some jeans. "I think the jeans might be a little big on you," he comes out of the bedroom and Y/n was right. She bends down on to roll up the pant legs and made them look good, then with a thud next to her, there were some old cowboy boots, Simon had found.

"Si."

"Found those in storage," he says. "Unroll that boys pants, he'll look stupid with his jeans tucked in." Y/n rolls her eyes and fixed them how they were before, once Silas got his boots on and put the jeans over the boots, he looked good.

"There," Y/n says. "Perfect, now, come on, let's go see what we can get ya'."

"The boy doesn't need more then 5 shirt, 4 jeans, 12 underwear and 15 pairs of socks." Simon says from the front porch.

"Why so many underwear?" Silas asks from the front seat.

"Because I said so," Simon says.

"I'll get him as much shit as I want to," Y/n says, pulling out of the driveway.

"You two got a kid now?" Soap asked from sitting on top of his horse.

"He's part of Y/n's family, so, I made a deal saying if he stays here, he works here, he doesn't have any clothes, so they're going, he'll be back to take care of the pigs."

-------------

"How do those feel?" Y/n asked, while she held shirts, and pants, in her arms, she looks down at Silas who was feeling around for his toe.

"They're tight."

"You're not use to them yet," she says. "Do you like them?"

"Yeah," Silas had picked out two pair of boots, a real fancy pair that he promised Y/n he won't wear out in the field but if they go somewhere fancy, then a pair that he'll be using in the pig pin.

"Alright, let's go pay," putting everything on the counter and Y/n paid, Silas looks around the store, seeing some belts, he doesn't have any, but Ghost's black leather belt was on Silas' mind.

He finds one, almost similar to Ghost's belt, he takes it off the rack and goes to the counter.

"And this," he says.

"A belt?"

"I don't have one..." Silas says.

"True alright."

"You want a buckle one it, son?" The old man ringing them out says. Silas looks at the glass case and sees the wide range of buckles.

"That one." Pointing to the one that just a long horn on it.

"Sure." Y/n smiles at Silas as she pays for everything.

-------------

"Don't let, Simon get under your skin, Silas. He's just not use to a kid being in the house."

"Is he always grumpy?"

"Yeah, just about."

"How'd you even marry someone like him?"

Y/n giggles. "He wasn't always like that," she says.

"He was nice?" Silas sounded shocked.

"He still is." She says, laughing.

"Nah, no, I haven't seen him been nice yet."

"It'll take him a while, Silas, it won't happen instantly."

-----------------

When getting home Silas sees the guys reangling up some cows, he looks at them and walks to the fence, sitting on it and watching them.

"Silas," Simon then points to the pigs. Without a fight Silas gets to the pigs, but he could still watch them.

Y/n walks to the pin and watches Silas, dumping the slop in the bowl and grabbing the hose for Bessy, Silas just knows he's going to hate doing this. He chases Bessy in the pin, she squeals loudly as Silas chases the pig, the guys all stopped to watch watch Silas, they either cheered for Silas or for Bessy.

Silas then tackles Bessy like last time taking her down and starts hosing her off. The guys all cheered and Silas felt slightly embarrassed but then felt great that he was getting cheers from the guys.

He looks at Y/n as she just gives him a soft smile.

"Come on, back to work," Ghost says.

------------

Silas helped Y/n in the kitchen, cleaning, washing dishes and then making dinner for them once Ghost was done with the chores around the farm.

Silas had looked outside seeing Ghost coming up to the house, he keeps washing the dishes as Y/n puts everything down to go to the front door and wait for Ghost to open the door. Once he did kicking his boots off at the front, his arms went around her waist and holds her tightly.

Silas watched them, he knew these two were a happy couple, and they were like every other couple, getting into fights and then making up, he watched how Ghost was gentle with her.

"What's for dinner?" Ghost asked looking at Silas and then down at his wife.

"Chicken and mash potatoes," she says. "Something simple."

"What clothes did you get," Ghost asked, looking at Silas.

Silas without another word went to the room he was staying in and brought down the bags. Ghost starts looking through them and pulled some of the shirts out along with some jeans.

"New belt?"

"Yeah, I need one."

"Looks like mine," he says.

"Yeah," Silas looks down and Ghost just smiles a little.

"Fine, looks good, more shirt then I said," he says, looking at Y/n who's back was turned to him.

"I'm allowed to get him as many shirts as he wants," she says.

"New boots, I saw," he says.

"And?" He doesn't say anything, knowing what he might say, she'll give him attitude and make a good point. "That's what I thought," she says. "Anyways, dinner is ready."

----------------

Silas and Ghost sat on the front porch together, it was silent for a long time but soon Ghost started talking.

"So, kid...how was your relationship with your dad?" He asked, he was blunt, and Silas learned that already.

"Not that great, I guess," he says.

"You guess?"

"My dad did drugs...chose drugs and women over his own kid, yet, I don't know my mother, if I knew my mother...I don't think I'd be here with you two, and there is no telling how crazy she is!" Silas says, leaning back in the rocking chair.

"That's like my dad...my mom was my...hero, I guess, she stood up for me all the time, my dad did drug and was an alcoholic...I never had a good relationship with him..."

"What happened to them?"

"My mom passed away from a heart attack, and my dad overdosed on fentanyl and my brother Tommy died from drugs as well...it's just me..."

"How'd you meet, Y/n?"

"Y/n," when Ghost said her name he smiled and looked at the night sky and bright stars. "She is my fucking world, even though he 'get into fights' she is my everything, I will do anything and everything for her...I met her by a friend of mine, Soap, he showed a photo of her to me because he said 'I needed to get out there' and he set up a blind date for us...we hit it off and got married to each other in 6 months."

"6 months?!"

"Yeah...crazy," he says, chuckling. It stayed silent again till Silas spoke.

"...Am I staying here?" He asked Ghost. Ghost took a deep breath and sighed.

"It's up to Y/n...you said she's your guardian...that's more up to Y/n then me," he says.

"And he is," Y/n came out of the house, she sits on the arm of Ghost's rocking chair, his arm wrapped around her waist and resting on her hip. "You will stay here...I don't want you going off to Foster care and not know anything about your family. I'm your family now, Simon is your family now..." she cups his chin getting him to look at her. "And I sure as hell will do everything in my power to keep you here, no one will come and take you from us, do you understand?" Silas nods his head.

"If you also stay here, we've got some ground rules for you," Ghost says.

"Like what?"

"One is no stealing, if you get caught again, we're not coming to get you," Ghost says.

"He is right, I don't want to see your mug anywhere," Y/n said.

"Got it."

"You work till I say you're done, you may have the pigs as a responsibility but you also have the goats, sheep and chickens, you pull your weight around here."

As Ghost talks with Silas about the ground rules, Y/n had gotten up and left them to keep talking. Ghost seemed to make a new best friend and Silas knows what love feels like now.

[harrywavycurly]

Loving a Killer: Tuesdays are for Dancing

Masterlist: Here

Pairing: Killer!Harry x wife!reader

Tag List: @umadirectioner

CW: Language, mentions of ways to harm someone, mentions of weapons, mentions of drugs (it’s a pain medication that Harry doesn’t know about), threats, and as always Harry and Mitch kill people for a living in this series.

A/N: I had to come up with a way to introduce y’all to Niall and this just seemed to fit? It’s dramatic but in a fun-ish way or at least in a fun way for this series.

Summary: Mitch gets a call while him and Harry are at work and it leads so some dramatic events that let us get introduced to your nosey cubical mate that is the one and only Niall Horan✨

“I say we use the zip ties on his ankles.” Harry suggests as he places a hand on his hip while running his free one through his hair as he stands in front of a fold out table littered with different objects he packed with him for this evening’s job. “Makes it easier to move him to the trunk if his ankles are tied together and the zip ties haven’t let us down before unlike the-”

“I get it okay? Rope only works in the movies but how was I supposed to know that?” Mitch says in an attempt to defend his choice of wanting to use rope on a man’s hands and feet a few jobs ago, but it ended up being a massive issue because the rope kept coming undone as they moved the body from the living room to the car and then to the woods to be disposed of.

“It could’ve worked if you knew how to properly tie a knot.” Harry states as he reaches for the bundle of zip ties while Mitch just rolls his eyes as he walks over to the man lying on his back in the middle of the basement.

“Let me guess-” Harry turns to look over his shoulder as Mitch bends down and grabs the knife from next to the man’s wrist, placing it in his open duffle bag near the table. “You know how to tie a perfect knot?” He questions making Harry just shrug as he looks back at the table so he can count out four zip ties, deciding it’s best to do the wrists as well just to be safe.

“I mean I’ve been known to be able to tie a decent knot or at least one someone can’t wiggle their way out of.” Mitch doesn’t miss the slight suggestive tone to Harry’s voice as he talks or the small smirk that tugs at his lips when he turns to hand him two zip ties so he can get started on tying the man’s wrists together while Harry works on his ankles.

“Really? She’s into being-” Before Harry can even shoot him a warning glare to watch what comes out of his mouth next, Mitch’s brows are pinching together as he moves the zip ties to one hand so he can reach into his back pocket of his jeans for his phone. “Uh hello?” Harry raises an eyebrow as he begins to zip tie the man’s ankles while keeping a watchful eye on his bestfriend who in all the years he’s been working with him can count on three fingers the times he’s ever answered the phone while on a job.

“Yes-yeah he’s with me.” Mitch gives Harry a quick glance making Harry get an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. “What? Uh-uhm okay yeah yeah we will uh-yeah be right there uh huh-bye.” Harry is already done with the man’s ankles and standing up by the time Mitch is hanging up and sliding his phone back into his jeans.

“What happened?” Mitch runs a hand over his face with his free hand before he looks at Harry who is packing his backpack up, preparing to leave the moment Mitch explains what the phone call was about because he can just tell whatever it was about isn’t good.

“That was Niall-”

“Niall? As in my wife’s coworker Niall?”

“Uh yeah so apparently she goes to-”

“To dance lessons on Tuesdays? Yeah because that’s the night we work late and she doesn’t like to be home alone at night that much. Now what the fuck happened? Why did he call you?”

“Well if you would just let me talk I would happily tell you.” Harry sends Mitch a glare as he shoves the last of his stuff into his backpack but Mitch just ignores him as he quickly finishes zip tying the man’s wrists together.

“Niall went with her tonight because he was bored and I guess something happened and he thinks her toe is broken? But she’s okay and-and Harry dude where are you going? I drove us here you asshole!” Mitch shouts as he scrambles to get to his feet and grab his duffle bag before Harry is at the top of the stairs that lead to the kitchen of the man’s house.

The thing is Mitch knows Harry well enough to know he will absolutely leave him here if he doesn’t make it to the car fast enough so Mitch skips every other step and barley makes it into the passenger seat before Harry is putting the car into reserve and heading towards where he already knows you’re at. Harry doesn’t bother looking at how fast he’s going or how quickly the lights change from yellow to red as he runs through them. The only thing running through his mind is getting to you as fast as he can because until his eyes land on you and he sees for himself just how badly you’re hurt or hopefully how not hurt you really are, he can’t focus on much else.

“Traffic laws are still in effect by the way and I’m pretty sure you’ve already broken three of them.” Mitch reminds his friend who he knows is just in a panicked and probably slightly angry state of mind over the fact you got hurt and he wasn’t there to stop it from happening or make you feel better the moment it happened.

“Yeah well coming from someone who just stabbed a man not even two hours ago I think traffic laws are the least of our worries.” Harry argues with a casual tone that makes Mitch just let out a chuckle as he shakes his head.

“You just always have to be right don’t you?” This gets a small smile out of Harry as he briefly looks over at Mitch with a shrug.

“So…Niall has your number?” Mitch lets out a sigh and rolls his eyes making Harry grin because he can see the tiniest hint of a smile wanting to form on his face, he knew the two of them hit it off when they met a few weeks ago at the festival but he hadn’t heard much else about it because well Mitch isn’t one to share details about his personal life unless Harry really pushes for them.

Mitch knows Harry is only asking about Niall as a way to distract himself so his mind won’t wonder off to the darkest corners and start imagining the worst possible scenarios the two of them could be headed towards even though the only injury either of them know you might have is a broken toe. So Mitch decides that he’ll be nice, he will let Harry in on some bits of information regarding the Irish brunette man he was forced to meet at an event he only agreed to go to because of the promise of cookies and the chance to indulge in carving into something for fun and not for work, Mitch has always enjoyed a good pumpkin carving contest. But he also isn’t going to give this information up easily, so he thinks of something Harry can do for him in exchange for it.

“I’ll tell you about it if you actually stop at the next red light.” Mitch offers causing Harry to let out a huff as he reluctantly lets off the gas just a bit, his way of silently agreeing to the terms his bestfriend gave him making Mitch loosen the death like grip he has on the passenger side door handle.

Niall is a ball of nerves as he looks at the door of the bar waiting for it to burst open and to see your husband walk through it, he chews on his bottom lip as he looks down at his phone and sees it’s been five minutes since he’s called Mitch so he knows that’s probably way too soon for Harry to arrive considering both of them were at work when he called. He wouldn’t feel so nervous if the last few times he saw Harry he was just a little more friendly because the thing Niall doesn’t understand is how someone who works with computers and is a certified tech nerd can be so terrifying but that’s exactly what Harry is to Niall, terrifying. He knows the moment Mitch and Harry walk through the door he is going to be getting some hard glares and probably a nasty comment or two so he’s just trying to prepare himself the best he can.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t a good color I just said it’s unusual that’s all.” Niall’s head shoots up at the sound of Mitch’s voice as his eyes land on the door just in time to see Mitch walk through it with Harry following close behind him.

Now Niall has seen Harry before, he’s met him three or four times in casual settings and once at an office party but he’s never seen him look quite like this. The sleeves of his all black button up are rolled up to his elbows letting him get an eyeful of the tattoos that decorate his forearms and hands, it’s tucked into well fitting black trousers that are held up with a thin black belt while his hair is pushed back and his usual glasses are gone making Niall assume he has contacts in. It’s as if his attire just adds another layer of his already intimidating personality making Niall swallow down his nerves as Harry’s eyes finally land on him.

“Where is she?” Niall feels his eyes go wide at how harsh and deep Harry’s voice is as he walks towards where he’s standing near the end of the bar. He opens his mouth to say something but it’s as if all of a sudden Niall doesn’t knows how to form actual words so he just kind of stands there opening and closing his mouth for a moment making Harry’s jaw clench as his eyes narrow in one of the harshest glares Niall has ever been on the receiving end of.

“She’s in my office.” Harry’s glare softens as he looks away from Niall and towards Jeff who is standing behind the bar cleaning some glasses.

“Thanks.” Harry calls over his shoulder as he rushes past Niall and towards the back office of the bar and that’s when Niall lets out a deep sigh as he turns to rest his hands on the top of the bar finally feeling like he can somewhat breathe now that Harry is out of the room.

“Don’t take it personally he’s like that with everyone.” Mitch explains as he comes up to stand next to Niall so he can place a reassuring hand on his back.

“Is he always so-so intense?” Mitch just shrugs as Niall turns his head to look at him with a raised brow. “Nice to see you again by the way. This isn’t exactly how I imagined it going but I’ll take what I can get.” Niall jokes or at least tries to as an attempt to lighten the mood and he thinks it’s worked when he hears a soft chuckle come from Mitch’s mouth.

“Harry just really loves his wife that’s all.” Mitch explains as he looks around Niall and signals Jeff who just gives him a nod and a smile before turning around to start making Mitch’s usual drink. Niall just rolls his eyes as he turns his body so he’s now facing Mitch with his elbow on the bar and his hands clasped together in front of him.

“Oh come on the man looked like he wanted to kill-”

“What the fuck did you give her?” Harry’s voice is loud and full of anger that’s directed towards the man standing in front of Mitch as he comes barreling out of Jeff’s office. Niall doesn’t have time to do anything before Harry has a fistful of his shirt and is shoving his back into the bar with one hand while his other hand slams down onto the top of the bar allowing him to lean over Niall as he speaks. “You have five seconds to tell me why my wife is in that office acting loopy and dazed out of her fucking mind.” Mitch doesn’t even flinch at how harsh Harry’s tone is as his grip on Niall’s shirt tightens, Mitch just places a hand on Harry’s shoulder which he instantly shrugs off making Mitch roll his eyes.

“Harry you’ve got to-”

“Tell me to calm down and I swear I’ll break his nose right now.” Harry threatens as he quickly turns to give Mitch a look that makes the long haired man let out a sigh as he runs a hand through his hair. “You now have three seconds.” He states as his attention goes back to Niall who is trying his hardest not to freak out at the fact he just heard Harry casually mention breaking his nose.

“She uhm said she-she was in pain so I gave her something to make her feel better that’s all.” Niall explains the best he can with how he’s bent over the bar.

“You don’t know me very well Niall but you should know that I hate to repeat myself.” Niall closes his eyes after Harry’s statement half expecting to feel a blow to his face giving him the broken nose he heard him mention just a moment before. “So just know I’m only going to ask you one more time.” Niall slowly opens his eyes as Harry’s grip on his shirt loosens but only slightly. “What did you give her?” Mitch looks at Niall over Harry’s shoulder and raises an eyebrow at him and that’s when Niall realizes he might’ve made a mistake.

“I gave her a pain pill I had saved over from my knee surgery that I just keep around for emergencies.” Harry quirks a brow at Niall’s admission as his eyes momentarily glance down to his knees and Mitch knows he’s storing that information for later just incase he needs to use it against the man he still has in his harsh grip. “I just wanted her to feel better I’m sorry.” He blurts out making Harry let out a scoff as he gives Niall a shove as he releases his hold on his shirt.

“Oh well she’s feeling wonderful Niall so wonderful she can’t tell even me what actually hurts or what happened.” Harry says with a dark chuckle as he runs a hand through his hair while he turns to take a step away from Niall. “All she knows is that she feels nice and floaty.” He says as he glares at Niall over his shoulder, Niall stands up and fixes his shirt with a sigh as he glances towards the office door he knows you’re currently behind.

“I’m sorry-” Niall’s apology is cut off by Harry just ignoring him as he heads back towards the office, Mitch just gives Niall a sympathetic look as he follows behind.

“I know he seems like a massive jackass and for the most part he is but maybe if you go back there,” Jeff’s voice causes Niall to spin around and face the bar as he places a shot of whiskey down in front of him, Niall follows Jeff’s head tilt in the direction of his office. “You’ll see him in a different light.” He finishes explaining as Niall reaches down for the shot glass.

“I’d rather not get my ass kicked but thanks.” Niall answers before downing the shot and handing the empty glass to Jeff who just laughs.

“He won’t even notice you’re in the room.”

“Trust me he’ll notice. He fucking hates me man. I practically drugged his wife.”

“If you’re in the same room as her then no. He won’t.” With that Jeff turns and heads towards the opposite end of the bar leaving Niall standing there with no other option really than to just suck it up and honestly he doesn’t want to seem like a horrible friend so he needs to at least go check and see how you’re doing.

Mitch turns to look at the door when he sees it open and he gives Niall a small smile as he leans against the doorframe a few feet from where Mitch is leaning against the wall closest to the door. Harry doesn’t pay him any attention as he kneels down in front of the small couch in Jeff’s office, right in front of where your left foot is propped up on a pillow.

“Baby can you tell me if this hurts?” Niall feels his mouth slightly drop open at the tone of Harry’s voice, it’s soft and gentle, not a trace of the anger Niall heard earlier and the way he’s looking at you is as if he thinks even too harsh of a glance could break you.

“Sweetheart.” Harry’s face breaks out into a playful smile as he looks over at you and sees your eyes are closed but he knows by the way you’re breathing that you’re not asleep, just acting like you are.

“You sound like my husband.” Mitch chuckles as you let out a sigh while still keeping your eyes closed while Harry just playfully rolls his eyes at you as he gently reaches over and puts his hand on top of your foot. “But you can’t actually be him because it’s Tuesday and Tuesdays are for dancing.” Harry just nods with a smile still on his face as he puts a little bit of pressure on your foot while looking at your face for any signs of discomfort.

“Oh is he not allowed to come to these dancing Tuesdays?” Harry asks as he moves his hand further down your foot, still applying pressure and seeing if you show any signs of pain. When you give him a small pout he immediately removes his hand from your foot and rests it on your ankle. “Did that hurt baby?” Harry questions with a furrowed brow as you slowly open your eyes.

“He works late Tuesdays and comes home when I’m asleep.” You mumble sadly making Harry return your pout as he stands up and places a hand on the back of the couch so he can lean down and place a kiss to your forehead. “You wanna know a secret?” Harry just lets out a soft chuckle as he nods his head while you try to sit up onto your elbows. “Sometimes I’m not asleep and I just act like I am.” You whisper making Harry smile at the little giggle you let out when you fall back onto the couch after telling him your secret.

“That’s so sneaky of you love.” He teases making you smile as you reach up and place a hand on his cheek. “I’m sure your husband hates Tuesdays and coming home so late he has to eat dinner all alone and can’t even get a goodnight kiss.” He explains as he places a kiss to the inside of your wrist before you pull your hand away from his face.

“You always get a goodnight kiss.” You argue making Harry laugh as he leans down to place a quick kiss to your lips in an attempt to get rid of your fake pout.

“Do I? Are you sure?” He asks as he pulls away making you roll your eyes and let out a huff as you cross your arms over your chest.

“Yes I’m sure because you wake me up and beg me for one because you’ll have bad dreams if you don’t get it.” Harry just nods as he quickly leans down and kisses your cheeks before standing up and turning to grab your purse and shoes off the floor.

“That’s right sweetheart your goodnight kisses keep the bad dreams away so if I have to beg for them then so be it.” You smile as you watch him gather your things into your purse and toss the bag over his shoulder before he turns back around so he facing you.

“Hi.” You mumble as you look up at him causing a dimpled grin to take over his face as he looks down at you.

“Hi baby.” He says as he holds out his hands for you to take to help you sit up. “Ready to go home?” You just nod your head and before you can even ask him for your shoes you feel one of his arms under your knees and another under your arms scooping you into his arms. Niall moves out of the way before Harry has to tell him to allowing room for the two of them to exit the office and when you see Niall you give him a big smile and a wave.

“Bye Niall! See you tomorrow!” Niall just laughs and waves back at you while Harry ignores the interaction as he heads for the door to the bar with the keys to your car in his hand.

Harry knows he’s going to have to smooth things over with Niall at some point but not tonight, not when he’s still not even sure what exactly happened or what exactly on your foot hurts. As much as he hates to say it, he can admit he understands why Niall did what he did because he saw his friend in pain and wanted to help so he did what he thought would make you feel better. He just hopes that Niall will keep his moment of anger between the two of them because he just made you a promise about threatening people and he knows you’ll be beyond upset with him if you find out he threatened your cubical mate. But he will find a time to worry about that later because right now all he wants to worry about is getting you home and then figuring out which movie you want to watch in bed while he makes you dinner and gets you situated before he has to unfortunately return to the man in the basement to finish his job for the evening but he decides that can at least wait until you’ve gone to sleep.

With Harry gone Mitch takes a moment and looks over at Niall who he can tell is struggling with understanding how that man was the same man who had him bent over a bar as he casually threatened to break his nose not even five minutes ago. It’s something everyone who meets Harry goes through because they all come to learn that there’s two sides to Harry and only one person gets the side that involves gentle touches and soft voices and that person is you. But Mitch knows that since Niall is your coworker he gets told stories about the softer side of Harry and even though the past few times he’s been around him while Harry hasn’t been the friendliest he wasn’t ever blatantly an asshole, so meeting the rougher side of him full force tonight was probably a bit much.

“It’s weird right?” Mitch asks breaking Niall out of his trance as he stares at the door you and Harry just went through. “Seeing him like that with her?”

“Is he a Gemini or something?” Niall asks with a more than serious expression on his face as he looks from the door to Mitch who just laughs and shakes his head as he reaches over and puts a hand on Niall’s shoulder. “Like with the two people in one body kinda thing?” He adds with a quirked brow making Mitch just give his shoulder a little squeeze.

“Nope he’s an Aquarius.”

[daisymbin]

Hi💕 can i get 22. "you were my first love—you still are." And 33. "can we start over?" With S.coups telling the reader (fem), with an indecisive ending…? Thanks

thank you for requesting!!!

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist!

second chance prompt #22: "you were my first love—you still are." +

second chance prompt #33: "can we start over?"

the crackling of the campfire echoed through the air as you and seungcheol sat quietly on the sand, far enough from the group to be alone, yet still close enough to hear their laughter carried by the breeze. the firelight cast a warm glow on his face, and you couldn’t help but glance at him from the corner of your eye.

you hadn’t meant to wander off like this, but somehow, the conversation between you two had drifted toward something more... nostalgic.

“remember when we used to come here, just the two of us?” seungcheol’s voice broke the silence, and you turned to see him staring at the horizon, his posture relaxed but his expression distant. “seems like it was just yesterday.”

you smiled softly. “yeah, i do. it feels like so much has changed since then.”

“yeah,” he said with a quiet laugh, “everything felt so different back then. simpler, maybe?”

“simpler,” you echoed, looking at the firelight in the distance. “and we were younger.”

“much younger,” seungcheol agreed, his tone almost wistful. “so, tell me,” he said suddenly, turning his head to look at you, his expression playful yet tinged with curiosity, “who was your first love?”

you blinked, caught off guard by the question. “my first love?”

“yeah,” he nodded, “i was obsessed with knowing the answer back then that i asked you all the time but you never really told me. so who was your it, your first love?”

you laughed awkwardly, unsure of how to answer. your heart skipped a beat as the weight of the question settled on you. you could lie. you could say someone from high school, or maybe a celebrity crush? you just weren’t ready to admit it.

“uh… well, i guess it was… winnie the pooh,” you said with a shrug, trying to make it sound casual. “yeah, when i was little, i was obsessed with winnie the pooh. you know, with the whole honey obsession and all that.”

seungcheol blinked at you, his eyebrows raised in confusion. “winnie the pooh? really?”

“yup,” you said, nodding and doing your best to act nonchalant, even though your heart was pounding in your chest. “he was sweet and loyal, and he had a bunch of good friends. i guess i had a thing for his, uh, personality.”

seungcheol stared at you for a moment, his lips twitching into a smile. “winnie the pooh, huh? well, that’s definitely... interesting.”

you shrugged again, chuckling nervously. “i was a weird kid.”

he leaned back on his hands, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.

you let out a small sigh of relief seeing that he didnt push for more, but before you could settle into the moment, he looked at you with a glint in his eyes. “who was your first real love? i mean, after winnie the pooh.”

you shifted uncomfortably, still unsure of how to answer. but then, almost instinctively, you asked the same question back. “who was yours? you never told me either.”

seungcheol’s eyes softened, and he smiled faintly, a mix of nostalgia and something deeper in his gaze. “you,” he said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of years. “you were my first love—you still are.”

your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, all the noise of the campfire and the laughter from the group seemed to fade into the background. everything went still.

“what?” you whispered, barely able to process his words.

seungcheol looked at you, his expression serious, yet tender. “you were my first love. i’ve never told you that before, but you were the first person who made me feel like that—like love was more than just a word.”

it was like a punch to the gut, but a warm one. the realization hit you all at once—he felt it too.

“but—” you started, your voice shaky. “why didn’t you... why didn’t you tell me back then?”

“i don’t know,” he admitted, his eyes dropping to the sand. “i guess i was scared. scared of losing you, scared of being vulnerable. so i kept it to myself, even though i shouldn’t have.”

“cheol…” you murmured, your voice breaking slightly. “i wish you had told me.”

“i know,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “i wish i had too. well at least you know now. even though it's a little too late."

you swallowed hard, trying to hold back the emotions threatening to overwhelm you. “i... i don’t know what to say.”

“you don’t have to say anything,” he said quickly, reaching out to take your hand in his. “i just needed you to know. you were always my first love, and in some ways, i think you always will be.”

the warmth of his hand in yours made your heart ache. you could feel the sincerity in his words, the years of unspoken feelings that had built up between you. you both had changed, but some things—some feelings—remained the same.

you stayed there in silence for a while, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore filling the quiet space between you two. the campfire crackled in the distance, but all you could focus on was the quiet intimacy of the moment.

finally, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. “maybe it’s not too late.”

seungcheol turned to you, his expression uncertain but hopeful. a smile smile tugging at his lips, “yeah? you think so?”

you don't answer him, except to give a small squeeze with your hands. you both sat in silence again, the weight of his words hanging between you, unspoken but understood. the air around you felt charged, like the world was waiting for something to happen, but neither of you moved.

after a long moment, seungcheol shifted, turning fully to face you. “do you think,” he said softly, his voice steady but full of nervousness & vulnerability. “can we start over?”

you met his gaze, the flickering light of the fire casting shadows across his face. there was hope in his eyes, something you hadn’t seen in a long time.

could you start over? could you go back to something that was so simple before, and yet so complicated now? your heart ached, unsure of what to say. you hesitated, your mind racing. everything about this felt so right, yet so complicated. a second chance seemed like something worth considering, but was it really the right time? could you both just... fall back into the old rhythm, or would it be different this time?

you looked at him, unsure still, but a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “i don’t know,” you said softly, the indecision hanging in the air between you. “but maybe we can... figure it out?”

seungcheol’s eyes softened, a small, hopeful smile forming on his face. “maybe we can.”

and there, in the soft glow of the campfire and the crashing waves, the future was uncertain, but there was a warmth in the possibility. maybe this time, you can tell cheol that he's your first love too?

[notpixl]

Realizing they’re in love with you! HSR Edition

(Ft. Robin, Acheron, Blackswan, Feixiao)

Y’all this came up to me while in class the voices told me to write this okay or else they’ll delete my accounts 🥲

Also, Beauty amidst Death will have an update. I’m just cringing at the fact that I decided leave it in strange place and am wondering how to continue it…

GN!Reader as usual. I want all sides to be happy

—————

———

—————

Robin

It’s… weird?

Well, she does get the usual fans declaring their love to her and all but somehow you’re different??? Like what-

Nowadays, whenever you two hug she’s always a blushing mess! And how come she just noticed that you’re… really, really close…

Too close…

There’s like this feeling on her stomach whenever you two are together. It doesn’t matter if it’s a call, a meetup, or just hanging out! It… It’s always there!

And whenever your name is mentioned her ears perk up! Like… what did do you to her?!

Eventually she’ll consult about these feelings with Sunday but he just chuckles it off, leaving her to guess what it is. (At least give her a hint!)

Though the answer would come knocking at her door

It was a simple gift

From you

There’s a little note etched into the cover

“For someone that means so much to me :)”

Opening it revealed a pretty little necklace

With a Dove as its Pendant

…come to think of it don’t they represent something?

She’s sure it was something about…

Peace…

Freedom…

And Love!

Wait…

Love…?

Oh

Oh

She slowly covers her face in embarrassment

Why… did it take her so long to figure this out?!

Aeons, she’s so dumb!

“All this time I was in love with them…”

Acheron

She’s met many people

Countless if you will

But why…?

Why is it that in this ever current flow of forgetting and remembering…

She just can’t seem to forget your lovely face?

She’ll rush to the libraries, read the news, heck, even threaten ask the greatest philosophers on what this feeling means!

Perhaps that Memokeeper knows something…?

Oh forget it!

She’ll tackle this head-on!

…by asking you herself.

“Ah… so that’s it is… Love.”

Black Swan

Hmm… what a quaint feeling she’s having when you’re around

Love, isn’t it?

She’s only seen and heard about it… but not once has she ever had the chance to have a feel…

…would you reciprocate these feeling as well?

Although that possibility comes in mind…

She’d rather hear it from you than face the harsh reality of rejection

Then again…

Would her as a whole be enough?

She’s never considered using her body to charm someone, let alone the person she has come to love…

Perhaps…

Perhaps you will

“The possibilities are endless… but I’ll never stop it from blooming.”

Feixiao

She’s rather perplexed

Wait- no… yeah no that actually works-

All it takes was one glance during her walk and now she’s stumbling on her way to work with this… strange feeling

There’s no point in running away, she already has Moze tracking you down

She’d talk to Jiaoqiu about this, only receiving a shrug and scraps of determination to “find it out herself.”

Cheeky Foxian…

Hmm…

Maybe she should ask from the source itself?

You lay in bed, already done with today’s schedule when you notice a shift in weight on your waist

Your eyes hesitate to open

“That’s not a good way to greet guests, isn’t it?”

Moving won’t help

“Look at me.”

You’re met with such a pair of eyes you can’t even begin to describe them

Scary? Beautiful? I think that shouldn’t be your main concern right now-

“I’ve got a question…”

Her grip tightens on your shoulders

“What did you do to me?”

—————

———

—————

Um… no comment down here

I hope you enjoyed/hated it

Asks are always open I guess if you want to force me to write and die and sob and and and a sn

[igglemouse]

Hey look who's here to kick off my day, Niklas, the man of destiny himself. I'm not surprised but he is sporting a big smile on his face which I love to see! It's supposed to be Summerday, by the way, but as you can tell the weather here doesn't really think so.

"I was thinking," Niklas says after I invite him inside, his cheerful mood radiating off of him and bringing a smile to my face too. "It's summer, maybe we can go out and do some summery stuff?"

"Oh?" I glance at one of the windows and peer beyond the glass to see the dreary gray morning that is common here oft times in Windenburg. "It sure doesn't feel like summer."

"That's Windenburg for you!" he agrees with a laugh and yeah, can't argue there but what kind of summery things can we do with a day like this?

"What did you have in mind?" I ask.

"Just something simple, maybe, head out to the public pool?"

I can't help but smirk and tease him a little, it is a good idea buuuut I have a feeling I know why he's thinking about a little date out to the pool. "Ah, wanting to see me in a swimsuit then?"

So we head to the Bathe De Rill and thankfully we're a little early so the pool is pretty much empty. It's also raining which probably explains the lack of people but honestly why would rain stop a trip to the pool? You're going to get wet any ways, so what's the difference? Ah well, public pools are no fun if there's too much of a crowd.

After a few casual laps, nothing competitive, but we both use enough energy so that we had to pause and catch our breaths giving us a perfect time to start a conversation. "So, any water tricks you can show me?"

"Hmm? No," he gives his head a little shake, wading restlessly in the water. "It's always hard to manipulate the elements. Fire, water, air, those forces take a lot of skill and power to get a handle of."

"I can imagine but you're telling me you have no tricks at all!?" He's so lame sometimes! "Not even a bubble or a little sprout of water or-"

"Oh, I know a trick I can do with water?" He says but his tone is a little too playful now and it makes me suspicious of what he might say next and yet I can't help but ask.

"Yesss?" my eyes narrow, knowing the set up suddenly, it's going to be a lewd joke isn't it?

"I can show you later tonight."

Ugh, I knew it! Let me guess, something something make me wet something something? Yeah, that's He's also snickering like a child too as if he's told the most clever of jokes! All I can do is groan, roll my eyes, and float over to the edge of pool to make my exit.

He follows me outside of the pool and we both decide to hang out a little longer here. For a while we just walk, letting ourselves dry with the help of a very mild sun and a slight breeze but eventually we find somewhere to stop. Away from the trickle of people who have waited out the rain to visit the famous Bathe de Rill. I am mostly focused though on his watch, there is something about it that draws the eyes, it looks ordinary and yet clearly it isn't.

"So is that thing waterproof?" I ask, my eyes glaring at it as if it had asked me a question instead.

"Yea, fireproof too. It can withstand a lot, it's...well, it's very old. My great grandmother had her house burned down in a fire, attempted arson we think, but she later retrieved it in the ashes as if it were brand new."

"That...that thing seems pretty powerful?" Fire usually is all powerful, after all, it's like pure energy. Fire kills everything, doesn't it? Except for his watch I guess.

He shrugs as if it the answer was obvious. "Yeah, it is, but honestly it's a passive kind of power. Not an active kind of power."

"So you say it points you to where you need to be but for what purpose like...is it trying to help you succeed or..."

Another shrug. "Simply where I need to be, whatever that means. It's not always serving me, at least that's what I've been told but honestly I don't think my father even knows what it does."

"What do you mean?" I ask, because the more I hear about it the more confusing it gets. He used it to claim that that we were meant to be but what if it dragged him my way for another reason?

"It's...hard to explain," he rubs the back of his neck for lack of a better answer. "It's not trying to make me rich or anything, it's just simply...where I need to be."

"Ugh, I'm starting to understand why you avoid magic!"

I head back home with Niklas because by the time we left the pool night had fallen and you know he insisted on walking me home. He warned of vampires and werewolves and the mothman and bigfoot too...okay, he only warned me about vampires because he seriously has a hatred for them.

Either way, I mentioned to him that he couldn't stay long because I had some cleaning to do and once again he deployed his magic to help me out. Cleaning the tub with a few swirls of his arms and some sparkly sparkles on top of it and voila, a clean tub! Yeah so, that's a neat trick! I'd be fine with just learning that honestly.

Also, yes, he never did change out of his swimshorts? Yeah so, that was my day, I guess I made the most of it.

Episode List - Next Episode 3.3

[dira333]

And the medal goes to... - Present Mic x Reader

for @alienaiver - for the Milestone Event Week 1 - Words: 1,6k

Join My Taglist

This is the best day of his life. 

“You’re annoying,” Shouta tells him from the side, but that’s not breaking his stride, no no.

“You’re just jealous,” Hizashi sings. “Because you didn’t got nominated.”

“I don’t want to be nominated.”

“Who doesn’t want to be nominated?” He turns now, glaring incredulously at his best friend. “It’s a freaking gold medal.”

“It’s not real gold,” Shouta corrects him. “You’re not playing the Olympics. You got gold in the Sports Festival one year, why is this making you so excited?”

“It’s a Medal of Valour, that’s serious business. Valour!!!”

“Yeah, I got it the first time.” Shouta sticks his pinky into his right ear and twists it. “Thanks for bursting my eardrum.”

“I didn’t burst it. I can burst it though if you want me to.”

“Not right now, maybe later.” Shouta parks the car. “Will you be okay without-”

“Don’t you dare stay behind!”

-

It’s a shame he had to come in his hero outfit. 

Sure it looks cool, but the medal will look stupid hanging right over his directional speaker. He could have worn a cool suit, mix up the old-fashioned needle-strip with some leather, spikes or bold colors.

“Oh, Present Mic, Sir, you’re right on time.”

“Of course, it’s such an honor-”

“Right this way, Sir,” he’s cut off, ushered down hallways. “You can wait in here until it’s time to step outside.”

Hizashi blinks. “Am I not supposed to listen to the speeches?”

The girl that had been guiding him looks a little confused.

“I mean, you can listen to them, but your presence is supposed to be a surprise, so you shouldn’t be seen from the crowd.”

“A surprise?” Behind him, Shouta lifts his head. Leave it to him to sniff out something weird.

“I’m sorry, maybe we got this wrong, but isn’t he nominated?”

“Nominated?” The girl stares wide-eyed in surprise. “No! Haven’t you read the letter we sent you?”

Shouta looks at him. He remembers the letter, but not the contents of it. 

Nomination, Medal of Valour, something something.

“Uh…”

“You’re our special guest. You’re here to deliver the Medal.”

“Oh,” Hizashi feels about half his size now. How is he going to explain this to his colleagues tomorrow? They’re all waiting to see that damned medal.

“No harm done,” Shouta calms down the poor girl while he tries to regain his sense of self. “We figured it out in no time. He doesn’t have to do a speech or anything?”

“No, just… be himself and deliver the Medal.”

“I can do that,” Hizashi promises, fumbling with the zipper of his leather jacket. “I can totally do that. I just… I think I got confused, because, why me?”

“I really can’t stay any longer,” the girl excuses herself at that, all but fleeing the scene. So much for an answer.

“Don’t say anything,” he begs Shouta who’s smile is small, but telling. Oh, he’s definitely going to hear about this later.

-

The room is small, but cozy, with a mini-fridge filled with drinks. 

One door leads back to the hallway and the other, Hizashi guesses, leads to the stage.

He pulls it open just a smidge so that he can listen.

The speeches are long and drawn out, as they usually are for an event like this.

Finally, they announce the names of the nominees. 

It’s not a competition, Hizashi knows. Each one of them will be granted their medal.

There’s an older lady who saved a toddler by calling for help. A guy who carried his co-worker out of a burning building. And then there’s you.

Something changes, he’s not sure what it is. Maybe it’s the murmuring crowd or the guy explaining everything or maybe it’s something entirely else, but Hizashi listens carefully now.

You’ve stood up to a Villain, faced injury or worse in order to shield an innocent child.

He knows he’s missing something from the story, but he doesn’t know what.

-

“Why don’t you tell us a little bit about yourself?”

The older lady’s name is Yachi Hitoka. She calls herself a scaredy cat, but knew she needed to do something when the little girl in front of her seemed to have trouble breathing. 

“I don’t have children,” she recalls, “but she held tightly onto my hand as we waited for help to arrive.”

The guy’s name is Tanaka Ryūnosuke and he talks about his deed of heroism like it was nothing but a walk in the park.

“Well I had to carry him out,” he recalls casually. “He couldn’t walk. It wasn’t that bad, just three sets of stairs. And he’s not that heavy, I think everyone could have lifted him-” He hesitates for a second. “Well, anyway, it was a good thing that I prioritize lifting over Cardio.” He chuckles over his own joke.

Finally, it’s your turn.

Your voice is friendly, but there’s an underlying hint of anxiety. No one’s calm on a stage unless they’ve had practice. 

Your name doesn’t ring a bell and neither does your profession but your story touches him differently than the others.

“I just had to help,” you say, voice tight. “Just because they’re quirkless doesn’t mean they can be treated that way! And what kind of person would I be, just looking the other way?”

“What gave you the strength to stand up to this Villain? I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

“No,” you laugh. “But I thought about my favorite Hero. And that helped me a lot.”

“Oh, you’ve mentioned him before. What’s his name again, so that we all now?”

Your voice turns lower, as if you’re flustered.

“It’s, uh, it’s Present Mic. I’ve looked up to him since he’s had his debut.”

Shouta’s elbow digs deep into his ribs at that. Hizashi had forgotten about his best friend’s presence until that moment and he curses quietly under his breath.

Behind him, a door opens. 

“Are you ready?” The girl from earlier asks and he turns to nod at her before facing the stage again, peeking through the open door at the thick curtain he has to step through in a moment.

- - - x - - -

It’s hard to focus with the bright lights all around you, your sweaty hands leaving damp marks on your arm rests and all those faces looking up at you.

Medal of Valour. Hah. You didn’t do it for a Medal.

You did it for yourself, growing up Quirkless. For all the looks and the rumours and the loneliness.

You did it, because you knew, if he had been there, Present Mic would have done it too. 

At least you like to believe that.

“We were touched by your story,” the interviewer says now. “So we brought in an extra Guest today. Someone special to deliver the Medals.”

You swallow, unsure how to react.

Movement on your right has you shift your head and you glare into the bright light, trying to figure out what’s happening.

The curtains lift and you see something, someone, stepping through. Black leather, bight blond hair - you let out a weird sound that’s neither here nor there.

Present Mic is taller than you imagined him. 

He’s staring at you like he’s not quite sure what he’s seeing and you wonder if he noticed the cane crammed between your thigh and armrest or the dark shadows under your eyes that come from the anemia.

Present Mic opens his mouth. You think you’re prepared for his voice but you’re not. Or rather, you’re not prepared for his words.

“You’re pretty!”

He says it like he’s dazed, like one does after getting hit in the head.

Snickers are heard from the crowd and he snaps out of it, blushing a feverish red.

“Pretty brave,” he corrects himself and you choke out a nervous giggle, try to avert your eyes and find you can’t. “Pretty brave indeed. I heard all of your stories. That’s what heroism is about, right? To help when needed, even when it’s hard.”

He blunders on, puts one word after the other until he’s got a sentence and then another but his eyes don’t seem to leave you.

It’s crazy and strange and you’re probably imagining things - yeah, that must be it - but he’s suddenly right in front of you, handing you that medal you never thought you could want, his hands lingering on yours a little longer than necessary.

You watch him move on. Tanaka-san next to you claps Present Mic on the shoulder like they’re old friends. Yachi-san giggles like a schoolgirl in love when he compliments her up-do, not once mentioning the obvious grey.

It’s over too soon. You’re meant to leave the stage under the applause of a crowd but you can’t walk that fast and the applause ebbs away as you fight your way down the stairs, your hand gripping your cane shaking.

It’s the nerves, really, but you know how it looks like.

“Care to hold on to my arm?” Present Mic’s on your other side all of a sudden, his arm right where you need it.

You hold onto it, flustered when he puts his hand right over yours, warm and reassuring.

“Can’t let you get away from me before I have your number,” he mumbles but he’s not good at speaking quietly, it seems and heads turn.

You don’t care for them. 

You only care for the mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“Well I could give it to you,” you tell him, a little braver now that you’re on solid ground, the crowd dispersing around you. “After all, you’ve been brave enough to ask.”

“Mhm,” he nods, smirking. “Brave enough to get a Medal of Valour?”

“Let’s not get too hasty,” you play along. “Start with my number first.”

“And a date second...”

-

Tagging:

@notsochillnerd @tsxkishimx @alexxavicry @lokiloveheart @kaykaystrings

[queerfables]

Although I'd be good with Buck moving into the Diaz house while Eddie is in Texas, I actually don't want him moving in there permanently. What I really want is Buck, Eddie and Christopher picking out a place together.

And in particular, I want them picking out a three bedroom place, because Buck and Eddie are still 3-5 business months away from admitting they have feelings for each other. There are two reasons why I think this would be amazing.

1. I wanna see all three of them navigate the shift from Buddie friendship to Buddie dating while they're already living together. The awkwardness would be superb.

"Should I like... move out?" Buck asks.

"Absolutely not," Eddie hisses. "Do you not remember what happened the last time I asked my partner to move out hoping it would give the relationship space to breathe?"

"OK but how many doppelgangers could Shannon actually have running around LA?"

"Until about a year ago, I thought the answer was none."

2. After Buck and Eddie are more settled and eventually admit to themselves that the second bedroom is only gonna keep collecting dust, they start discussing what to do with the space.

"We could turn it into a gaming room for Chris?" Buck suggests.

"For you, you mean."

"Well, it's shared hobby. It's important for us to bond."

"I was actually thinking maybe we could put some of the stuff Chris has outgrown in there. You know the other day we found a teletubby under his bed? I guess he accidentally brought some of his baby stuff back from El Paso."

"Okay, but couldn't that stuff go - "

"And then one day maybe a crib?"

Buck's mouth snaps shut. Eddie smiles.

"If that's... something you want?"

"A crib?"

"Well. Maybe a onesie or two."

Buck smiles back, dazzlingly wide.

"I think we could make space for that, yeah."

[ri-writes-if]

I'm usually a Vezmancer, but this time I decided to try all the routes and Laz...my my my what do we have here? I love the Oracle being this morose, hissing wet cat to him, hitting him with the "Why are you doing this I'm doomed to die sooner or later, stop it, let me die in solitude" is just marvelous (I'm a sucker for that sort of thing). (I also love being able to just pick whoever without worrying about always picking that RO in other scenes).

I truly hope at some point we get to circle back to the loneliness conversation (for added angst maybe after Laz fs up and get to hit them with the "should've stayed lonely I guess" and idk turn invisible or into a bird/butterfly so they can't/won't look at us and fly off).

I do have a question, mostly because I can't remember what the warnings were prior to this chapter, but just how dark can we make the story? Cause I noticed that every time the Oracle starts to go dark, they immediately bounce back. Like with Argellan (apologies if that's not how it's spelled, I don't remember assholes' names out of disrespect lol jk I'm just terrible with spelling) they almost start to cry and then just don't. Or they feel helpless and then just get determined even if most options I pick are the passive/I deserve this and "oh well guess I'll die" options. I'm not complaining, mind, I get going down the major depression path is not something everyone wants to do nor is comfortable doing, and that's 1000% ok. Your story, I'm just here for the ride.

I'm mostly curious given the warnings on if those tags are for the other characters? Or if it depends on our sanity or if it can get darker later? To set my expectations if you will. No need for spoilers and if it makes you uncomfortable/upset apologies, please don't feel the need to answer.

Regardless I look forward to confusing all the ROs with my pessimism and chaos.

I’m glad you enjoyed Laz’s route! Thank you for sharing your thoughts 💛

I understand you might want more “depressing” options, but it’s just not the direction I planned for this main character. They can end up in a pretty bad situation if their sanity falls, but overall, their potential tragedy is in misinterpreting what they need to become happy.

The Oracle is someone who wants a better life. It’s at the heart of their character. Every decision they have been making their whole life is pushed by this desire. They might be doomed, but they’re not going down quietly. They will force themselves to get up even when the situation is bleak, and that was the point of that moment—to show that they don’t allow anyone/anything to beat them down easily. They never have, and that’s why they’re still alive and trying to not just live, but live well.

Their developing arc isn’t “I want to live love laugh” vs “I’ll die so everything’s meaningless”, it’s more like “I’ll become a better person against all odds and find my place” vs “I’ll take what I want by any means necessarily even if it makes me miserable”. That’s as much as I can say without spoilering things.

So yeah, they’re not staying in the gutter. We’re actually at the point in the story where they begin to pick themselves up and take control of their life.

For the warnings—it’s mostly for what the Oracle encounters, though some of it will apply to them if you go down a particular path. Let’s just say… they might end up in a worse situation than they’re in now, you know? 🌚 Perhaps you'll enjoy that route! :)

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

SOMEONE MADE A TIKTOK EDIT WITH YOUR ART!!!!

I was watching a Welcome Home tiktok compilation [cause I don't have tiktok] and I just seen your art and was so surprised-

Here's the tiktok comp it was in! The tiktok with the edit of your art starts at 2:45!

IM LAUGHING SO HARD WHAT THE FUCK

i don't know how to feel beyond Way Too Perceived and also Wheezing

[necrotic-nephilim]

If you want to be bothered. Maybe this for dick and Bruce???

i ALWAYS want to be bothered these are always the highlight of my day tbh you're a delight for letting me just yap <3

Dick. For the canon isn't real square I am Specifically talking about the Tom Taylor Nightwing run. Usually I ignore bad runs but given this one is ongoing (though about to end THANK GOD and get replaced by Dan Watters who i have high hopes for since i adored his Sword of Azrael (2022) run but i digress) so I counted it. Especially since it's so debated if that run is bad or not, for some reason. I'm a 90s Nightwing truther. I love Dick so dearly and tbh recently I've been more enamored with him the more I read his Discowing era, I didn't used to be as big of a Dick stan as I am these days.

Bruce. Honestly where do you even start with Bruce. I want to fist fight him and also patch him up. He got me into comics and superheroes as a whole but I roll my eyes whenever he shows up in a story. He's a bastard and usually not a good father but also complex and should be dissected under a magnifying glass. I love him dearly. He's also just the worst. I think that's why I love him. I'm always a fan of unabashedly Complicated Asshole Bruce who's generally not always the best person, particularly not to the Batfamily and that being the driving force of his relationships with them, especially in shipping.

And for bonus points, Tim. Because know above all else, I'm a Tim Drake kinnie /deg. He's been my number one for a decade and I've yet to uproot him from my brain. He's literally the Worst half the time and I love him for it. And the canon isn't real refers to Tim Drake: Robin because... that sure was a comic. And that's about all I can say about it. Pre-Flashpoint Tim I miss you so dearly. I think it's fun that I want to put him in a blender and drink the juice but also want Nothing Ever to happen to him.

[oceandiagonale]

Actually, Guzman is his spanish name.

OH YEAH some other folks pointed that out too, makes sense since it's an irl Spanish name (probably why I see it around a lot!) 😳

(normally it's a surname, I've only seen it used as a first name once in a blue moon -- but also in the pokemon world it's pretty clear that naming conventions aren't the same lol)

[wawamouse]

Me? Well, I've... I've mostly been a loner.